Two Versions Of Love Poem by Daniel Brick

Eros himself is nearby
in Ovid's poems. When a woman
crosses paths with a man, a sense of
fait accompli prevails rather than
anticipation. They slip
into an embrace effortlessly,
both of them know this love-play.
The warmth of the early evening
is luscious in the garden. Sweet
flower perfumes take away what's
left of their breath. Their kisses
multiply in an adjacent room decorated
with erotic picture. Entangled
in each other's limbs, they pause
to appreciate the artistry
which perfectly mirrors their passion.
When they climax, they both inhabit
the realm of the gods briefly.
Immortal longings are satisfied
temporarily. Smiling, they speak
softly about their joy and gradually
drift off into a shallow sleep...
Such is the content of Ovid's
THE ART OF LOVE. It is addressed
to prosperous people, a way of being
for those who race through life,
grabbing their delights in the rush
of experience. There is another Love
which descends from sacred Desire, and
lags far behind Ovid's type. Desire
takes its own time to unfold in time.
It postpones the shudder through the flesh
to add delicacy and coax passion to swell.
Desire means walking together on air,
embracing under blazing sunlight, or
within the cool radiance of nightfall.
It is composed of promises of happiness
which seem as accessible as the next
day's dawn, and sleep is deep and restful.