WHAT THE MIND THINKS IT CANNOT HAVE

We who were born on earth 
so hard-cracked dry
our bodies shrink
from each other, how
can we believe in rain?

Should we believe a sound
like raindrops pattering
on the roof is real—not
a dream?

If a shower arrives, should
we believe it will stay?
When rain departs, should
we trust it will return?

Father preached caution:
Reject what you can’t see.
Doubt empty sky. (And sky
always empties when it rains.)

But the body remembers:
My face turned up,
mouth open for that first
cool dollop of water. 

I twirled, arms wide, 
soaked to the skin, reached
for a sister’s slippery hand.
Together, we fell into
a soft cradle of mud.

Diane Silver is a Pushcart Prize-nominated poet and activist whose work has appeared in many venues, including Ms Magazine, The Progressive, Salon.com, MockingHeart Review, The Lavender Review, and The Coop. Her most recent books are Your Daily Shot of Hope: Meditations for an Age of Despair and Meditations on Awakening.