Dave Bonta starts with an ordinary moment: rain on the roof in the small hours of the morning. But he links it to a scientific claim that Earth's water is older than the sun, and suddenly the sound feels enormous. The speaker can't hear it the same way again. Each drop seems to carry a history, and the idea of water returning to the ocean "as if going home" gives the rain a quiet, almost tender feeling.
From there the poem stretches outward. If water is found on planets everywhere, then other living things may have developed eyes, just as many creatures on Earth have. The speaker imagines meeting their "watery gaze." The mood shifts from wonder to something more bittersweet. The poem suggests that such a meeting might not cure loneliness but make us understand it as something shared. The ending is small and human: offer a drink, or weep. Both responses feel believable, and the restraint is what makes them moving.