Mabee Image: Audrey Mabee


My mind works as it has been trained to—
With logic, rhyme and reason.
But the world is an extremely silly place,
And I cannot expect any of these things.
The darkest voice calls to me from within,
And I try to ignore it, to distract myself.
I try to quiet my mind, to shroud it and keep it
from whispering its cruel realities to me.
Cover my ears with your hands and protect me
like an umbrella from the torrent
of rain that only falls to me.

Author: kaytisweetlandrasmussen83

I am a retired fine arts teacher, sculptor/painter, writer, and a native Californian. I love my family,dogs, horses, movies, reading and music, probably in that order. I have been married forever to a very nice man who is nice to old ladies, dogs and children.

19 thoughts on “RAINY DAYS”

  1. I also hear, or feel, droning from not well-understood sources deep within my viscera. I reactively ignore them, shun them-shuck them out of my consciousness. But they are, indeed, persistent and return like night and day. And yet I sometimes discover that my perception of them is parallactic and that if I close one of my mind’s eyes, I will understand them, no…feel them? certainly perceive them from a different point of view and they become of a different character, and are comforting.


    1. That’s odd, Steve. I, too, was thinking of parallax today in the context of analogy and reality, only I was moving my head, not shutting one eye.

      Kayti has indeed provoked something visceral.

      There is nothing more soothing, though, than the sound of rain, so I have mixed feelings about her metaphor.


      1. When you lie awake in the small hours, restless with the worries and tensions of the day, soft rain begins to fall, the mental fires are cooled, you are given strength and you turn to face the dawn.

        The quality of mercy …


  2. You describe the feeling beautifully ccsaw.
    I think those feelings always sit quietly waiting in most of us. It’s our job to look them over and decide what part of them we want to keep. You’re correct, we don’t know where they come from, but, like unpaid bills, we can decide to toss them into the dust bin or bring them out into the light and see how unimportant most of them are.

    An old country saying I just made up: worry never paid the bills or fed the cat.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Those last three lines have both the emotional tenor and the rhythm of the Psalms. I thought of these lines from Psalm 51: “Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice.” And why not? A good wash of rain isn’t unrelated.

    I just laughed at the juxtaposition of the penguins and the raincoat girls. While raincoats and umbrellas are perfectly reasonable responses to rain, the penguins look like they’re having more fun. Splish, splash!


  4. Hyssop and rain have a lot in common. As my mother lay dying, she was comforted by a more or less constant reading of Psalms, and I became aware that human nature and illness has not changed through the centuries. What affected the ancients, is still around us. Depression however mild, was part of life, as was cancer and other illnesses we don’t seem to be able to cure. So the laying on of hands however figurative, was a comfort and a hope. At this point I’ll settle for rain!


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