Student of life, lifelong learner, mother, writer, artist, poet, dancer, musician, and martial artist ... passionate about all of these.
Trying To Find Joy In The Rain
I'm snuggled in bed ready for a peaceful night of slumber.
A couple of hours later I am awakened by the sound of rain pouring down outside just beyond my bedroom window.
For hours I lay in bed throughout the night, just listening to the rain...... trying to find joy in the rain!
Trying to be soothed by the quiet murmuring of rain splashing in puddles and gently sloshing against the glass.
Trying to enjoy the scene of birds using the puddles as their personal watering holes.
Remember Those Days?
Normally I would be excited by the rain.
It is a chance to cuddle up under the blankets,
thinking of rainy days gone by,
maybe of special rainy days in childhood,
childhood memories wrapped up in the blanket of glorious rainy days.
maybe of those rainy days leading up to a hurricane,
maybe of those rainy days when you ran around outside in the rain in your swimsuits.
Remember those days?
The point is rain triggers memories of skipping in the rain,
and splashing around in the puddles,
or going "sledding" down the muddy mountain sides (that was my favorite in Jamaica),
or watching my paper boats float down the stream at the side of the road.
Then Came Lupus
I've always enjoyed my relationship with rain (and still do to a certain extent)
...until lupus came along!
What has become of the sun?
I cry and my teardrops become like the rain falling on the window panes.
Nobody hears the crackling sounds in my voice.
Lightning flashes and thunder roars, drowning out the sound of my cries.
Each little drop of rain reflecting the pain that holds my body prisoner.
It Makes No Sense To Like The Rain
It really is not logical!
The steadily-falling rain soaks the grass and plants outside,
washing the town, the streets, the trees, but
Lupus doesn’t like the rain.
My joints ache.
I cry, "Rain, rain, go away!"
The rain may as well be my own tears,
dripping down the window panes, off the blades of grass, and the leaves of the trees.
It is hard to breathe due to costochondritis issues in my rib cage, and emphysema.
So, on nights like this when the bed is comfy and warm,
but body pains just will not permit sleep, it makes no sense to like the rain.
It won't stop raining.
The skies are dismal, forlorn and murky.
The sky pours forth torrent outbursts becoming heavier and heavier,
descending louder and louder,
drowning me in a deluge of emotions.
I have not felt pain like this in a while,
and for a moment I am tempted to drown the pain with some pharmaceuticals,
but I make it through using my own protocols of natural remedies and meditation.
Still Trying To Find Joy In The Rain
Normally I would savor the rain,
this cool, refreshing beverage from Heaven.
The streetlights reflect on the wet pavement.
Like drips of pain, it forms puddles on the ground and in the street.
I curl up in the dark praying for those I love,
those far away and those near.
Behind a veil of drizzling drops, tears cease, and anxiety stops.
I pray for all those who are also experiencing this disease,
and hope they are able to sleep well, as I lay here alone in the shadows,
silently watching and waiting for the rain to stop.
I try to make good use of this time in prayer, interceding for others,
and redeeming some good use of my waking hours while being frustratingly awake.
I pray that some day we will be free from all of this pain.
I pray for healing of our minds and bodies.
I pray that one day a cure will be found for lupus,
and that the body aches that have become a part of normal life will be a thing of the past
I know God hears in the dark,
and perhaps the sole reason sleep eludes me at this point is not because of the pain but because I am to pray for God’s help for another.
This is reason enough to rest here all night in the dark without sleep, while still trying to find joy in the rain.
Loving It, Senselessly
Laying here in pain brought on by the barometric shift,
it still seems wonderful,
and the hours are occupied sleeplessly listening to rain, rain, and more rain.
Loving it, senselessly,
and determined to find joy in the gloriously pouring rain.
This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.
© 2017 Gina Welds
manatita44 from london on February 28, 2017:
I love the rain and some of my poems reflect this. Still, it seems to be helping you to reflect on life. No bad thing. A very insightful and commendable piece. Much Love.
Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on February 27, 2017:
Gina, I'm so sorry what once brought you joy and adventure now brings you pain.
Gina Welds (author) from Tampa, Florida on February 02, 2017:
Hi everyone! Thanks for stopping by. It's been a challenging few days, but I made it through. @RoadMonkey, I applaud you for going back to school to get a Ph.D. I'm a grandmother as well, nowhere near retirement age, but it is something that has been on my mind.
Yes, drops in barometric pressure prior to the rain and during the storm cause such issues for people with inflammatory illnesses, lupus being one of them.
Jodah, thank you for your kind remarks. True, sometimes the best writings come out of adversity.
Awwwww, Ms. Dora. Thank you. I must admit I have been missing the warm waters, or I should say warmer temperatures of the Caribbean, but I know the temps dropped down pretty low recently. I would still take the low 70s over the 40s we have bee having here recently. Grateful for life, however, and looking forward to Spring...even when pollen comes in all its glory.
Dora Weithers from The Caribbean on January 29, 2017:
Gina, thanks for sharing. "Perhaps, the sole reason sleep eludes me at this point is not because of the pain but because I am to pray for God’s help for another." You're an inspiration. Hope you have a better experience next time it rains.
John Hansen from Gondwana Land on January 29, 2017:
This was a very well written poem, Gina. even though it is about the pain you suffer when it rains. Sometimes the best writing and poetry emerges as a result of pain and adversity. This was no exception. Well done.
RoadMonkey on January 28, 2017:
Lovely poem. Sorry the rain hurts your lupus, so something previously so enjoyable is now a painful experience.