Three poems by Martin Willitts Jr

A Leading, 2

From blinding sunlight, we are rendered with love,

like a sky painted with summoning music,

generations of waves from uncommon places,

brightened by asters.

I share this with all, a promise,

as solid as rain lasting all day —

a perfect storm

for what needs to grow.

~ ~

For what needs to grow?

A rendering song

planting in spring when rain is soft

hammers inside a piano during an adagio.

This is the life we have.

None other — where a tree will grow

and die without us seeing it, a history

beneath us. By the time we meet,

the weight of daylight

will mist and break

in a message.

We might miss it. We might pass by,

rain branching into a sonata.

~ ~