Rain

It's raining on the rooftop; I can hear each tiny footsteps, All pattering about Like a thousand little creatures At a race track bout. I can hear their easy canter As they warm up at the gate. Then the lightning's signal bullet, And they're off and running fast. Faster, faster go the hoofbeats As they're coming 'round the bend. Four thousand feet are flying, Pounding steady on the track. Is it my ears deceiving? Is there a minute break In the rhythm of those hoofbeats, As they're beating out the time? Ah no! Their speed is gaining, As a thunderous applause Breaks out, as if from crowded stands And rolls throughout the air. The race has gained momentum, Through the minutes and the hours. Still they are relentless And the end not yet in sight. Deep beneath my downy covers, I shall snuggle down to wait, Lulling my drowsy senses By their never ending pace. Was it but a moment Till again I open eyes To the silence all around me? There is no way of knowing Who has carried off the prize. And here, the sun is shining, Yet the dampness in the grass And a few telltale raindrops Means the race is not long past. I gaze out of my window On a sparkling world, washed clean. Those tiny steeds are resting In their stalls, somewhere unseen