Splat, drip, plunk, sploosh
raindrops careen hard into car's glass
crashing almost, alien.
The arc of mechanical arms swinging side to side
sweeping droplets off the clear, curved surface.
Flattened ovals pulled like shooting stars
across the transparent galaxy, trailing off.
To see, we look beyond you to the space
between your liquid origin's existence
and beyond even the path of
ever a digit, a beacon
pointing towards the moon;
to where both the explosion of stars
and collision of raindrops
are but a bead
in a wellspring
of unlimited potential