Taking our place in the rainbow world
our wandering concern will fall on love
and with shaking hands we survey the prize
we hope that life will render.
The passionate kind
filled with pounding blood and sighing breath
tight and sharp and quick
caring not for time or place.
The cold kind
with eyes of white fire and lofty mien
protective, stern and strong
given freely and broken never.
The fierce, angry kind
glassy and bright
that breaks into beautiful shining pieces
and glories in the pain of its destruction.
The soft and yielding kind
brimming with warmth and constancy
giving comfort without cloy and light without glare
and asking nothing.
That we choose is ours and ours alone
and our fate we freely hold
until another's gift we enviously eye
and see that choice can have its edge.