Shall I compare love to art or math?
Can I compare it to either?
Perhap's it's the mad rush of passion
and a tidal wave in a Rachmaninoff sonata
or the joy of solving a long difficult problem
Maybe it contains all the simplicity
of a singing voice, and at the same time
a chorus of angels
What about time?
The savoring of a seemingly eternal moment.
There is no rush to love
Shall I compare the mystery of it?
Is it the joy of knowing it is a mystery
or the yearning of a reality beyond measure or comprehension?
In the end, is the answer to love in a question?
Or an answer no one has thought or heard?
I do know one thing as it has perplexed man
It's worth is beyond measure