There is a love like soft notes of rain on eelgrass.
There is the silence afterwards.
In between, there are moments when nothing exists
except the moment. We are desperate for each other,
like a mountain rubbing against wind asking for love.
This the aching moments, when two rivers rush together
and the noise blanks everything else, and after
there is such stillness, it is like whatever happened to the rush?
We rub the smoothness of each other, like two stones.
We all want this love. However, it is seldom like this.
The reality always disappoints. It is not flurry and flint sparks.
Today, if we try several times, we might succeed.
What have lost by trying? I will bring my thunder,
you bring your earth absorbing my gentle rain.
The yellow flowers make small statements of spring.
They keep their name to themselves,
but proclaim loudly to any who might listen
Their secrets can only last so long
and then they are gone.
If I were to find myself in a field of black-eyed Susan’s
counting their dark centers
like gateways to recovery from the silence of winter,
then their yellow would enter my blood
like a thousand prayers of peace
awakening that one hidden bell
nobody risked ringing
fearing a possible repercussion
and when it clicks like a cricket
everyone sighs a longing
for what they never knew.
Sometimes, it takes risk to allow things to happen.
Martin Willitts Jr has 6 full-length collections of poems including national eco-poetry contest "Searching for What Is Not There" (Hiraeth Press, 2013) and "Before Anything, There Was Mystery" (Flutter Press, 2014), plus over 20 chapbooks including contest winner :William Blake, Not Blessed Angel But Restless Man" (Red Ochre Press, 2014).