But with exquisite breathing you smile, with satisfaction of

Hear the tender words of Karl Shapiro, the poet of the twentieth century, who wove his verses with intimacy and truth: “But with exquisite breathing you smile, with satisfaction of love, And I touch you again as you tick in the silence and settle in sleep.” At first, these words appear only as a private moment, a whisper between lovers. Yet like all true poetry, they rise beyond the personal into the universal, speaking of the mysteries of love, of time, of rest, and of the sacred stillness where human hearts find communion.

The poet begins with breathing—that most ancient rhythm, the first act of the newborn, the final sigh of the dying, and the constant pulse that binds us to life. To call it “exquisite” is to acknowledge the beauty in what is ordinary. The beloved’s breathing becomes a music, a prayer, a sign of peace. In this simple act, Shapiro finds a world: the smile born not from grand laughter, but from quiet contentment, the love that requires no spectacle, only presence.

He writes of the “satisfaction of love,” a phrase that holds the weight of fulfillment. Not the hunger of desire, not the frenzy of passion, but the calm after both have been met, when nothing more is needed. This is the love the ancients revered—the union not only of bodies, but of souls, when words fall silent and presence alone is enough. It is the love of Odysseus and Penelope, reunited after years of trial, resting at last not in conquest but in each other’s being.

And then the poet speaks of time: “I touch you again as you tick in the silence.” The image is of the beloved like a clock, steady, eternal, marking moments even in rest. The lover becomes aware of time’s passage, of mortality, and yet there is no fear—only reverence. For to hear another’s breath, to feel their warmth in sleep, is to be reminded that life itself is fleeting, and therefore infinitely precious. The silence is not emptiness but fullness, charged with the sacredness of existence.

Such words recall the story of Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor, who wrote in his Meditations of finding peace in the ordinary. He urged men to cherish the small moments—the warmth of bread, the fragrance of figs, the sleep of loved ones—knowing that these were the true treasures of mortal life. So too does Shapiro’s verse teach us that in the resting body of the beloved, in the steady breathing and the soft smile, there is a glimpse of eternity.

The lesson here is clear: greatness in life is not found only in grand victories, in wealth, or in monuments. It is found in quietness, in being present to another’s existence, in cherishing the fragile beauty of love expressed through silence. Too often do we rush past such moments, seeking more, forgetting that in the steady rhythm of a partner’s sleep lies the deepest form of fulfillment.

Therefore, O seeker, remember this teaching: learn to notice the breathing, the smile, the small gestures that reveal the vastness of love. Do not wait for great occasions to show reverence; find it in the ordinary, for the ordinary is sacred. Sit with the one you love, listen to their silence, honor the time you are given. For in such moments, life ceases to be fleeting—it becomes eternal.

Thus Karl Shapiro’s verse, though whispered as a lover’s song, resounds as the wisdom of the ages: that love, when satisfied, transforms silence into music, time into treasure, and sleep into the most profound communion. Let this teaching be carried forward: cherish the quiet, for it is in the quiet that the soul learns what it means to truly love.