A Love Poem Poem by Daniel Brick

I am writing the simplest love poem
my imagination can conceive. The beloved
whose being this poem celebrates has not
yet appeared. There are rumors come our way
of a distant woman who rules over hearts,
a likely candidate in terms of sheer beauty.
But is that sufficient? Is beauty, however stunning,
a sufficient thread to bind us over time and space
in a wholeness of being? She draws lovers into her orbit,
she assigns each a speed and trajectory to prove
their love, or to be exposed as impostors. Either way
these lovers, one by one, crash against the possibilities
of love. Their debris, their dashed hopes, their crushed
souls will be the fundament of a New Age of Love.
I myself, who so long to summon love to my presence,
will set aside that personal quest, and write elegies
for those martyrs, whose sacrifice highlights
the simplest act of love. I must pause in homage.