Sometimes it rains… in the depths of my mind…and the thoughts in my head…just pour down…like el nino, submerging my being…
And the rain…thin broken lines…like steel-coloured needles…sewing my thoughts…
And i sit and i watch…from the sweating window…of my tumultuous mind…as the clouds churn…like a stomach suffering from gas…
And when the clouds gather…they are toad stools in a field…choking on my being…like hemlock in my throat…
Those smug clouds, i watch closely…knowing that, like a magician’s hat,they hold white rabbits…yet wondering all the same, if the hat trick will be different this time…
And as though to spite me…they sizzle and hiss…and lather and stew…like potion in a cauldron…
Then they break their waters…and go into labour…giving birth to new steel-coloured needles…like a spear on my mind…they spear and spear…
Then like a sponge…my mind gets porous…but unlike a sponge…it can’t hold the water…and the thoughts weigh me down…
Then the thunder crashes…like a drum roll…on the sky of my mind…but i fear nothing…for it is the sound…of my mind fighting back…
Gasping for breath…i paddle upstream…in the ravaged streets… of my desolate mind…clutching onto straw…even the sludge seems plausible…
And then breathing hurts…there’s a vice on my ribcage…and when i fight, it wrenches…the screws getting tighter…
But the worst of the storm is over…there can only be calm…deep as the centre of the earth…and the thoughts drift away…on dhows of understanding…onto the shores of acceptance…
Yes,sometimes it rains in my mind…but there can only be sunshine after the rain.

© Claudette oduor