We do not choose the moment love appears,
Nor whom we love, despite our hopes and fears.

For love's a fate that comes without a sign,
A fleeting chance, a blink, a touch divine.

Without a reason, without time's command,
It blooms unbidden, like a grain of sand.

Though love may bring its anguish and its pain,
It still remains the truest of the plain.

The secret of life’s fullness it reveals,
A world beyond the logic that one feels.

To love one far or near, your heart is true,
And in that love, no other comes to view.