Rain on my roof pitter-patters.
Whispering whoosh of the wind clitter-clatters
Its leaves to my window pane, scattering
Dreams gone away.

End of the year is in thunder,
Words of unbirthing all tearing asunder
Our hopes, and the promise is plundered.
The dream’s gone away.

But

Tears of the rain are for cleaning.
Wind is the whisper and promise of meaning.
Leaves hide an acorn whose greening
Is new dreams today.

Rain on my roof pitter-patters
Whispering whoosh of the wind clitter-clatters.
Yesterday’s ‘tombment lies shattered.
This dream’s come to stay.