Why Do Fools Fall in Love?
The wise predict every
outcome,
their long-reaching gazes
with far-sighted eyes
reading the unseen future,
forecasting every business
deal,
seeing the result of every
nod and handshake,
forever marrying
objectives and outcomes.
But we meet too many football
players
who fall for dancers,
professors for cashiers,
doctors for secretaries,
party animals for
wall-flowers.
It’s the lack of vision
that guides the lover,
blindness the hand that
leads her
through this shadowland
without pattern,
without lists of common
interests,
the blindness that is the
way to love,
the embraced mystery
that is the sole province
of the fool.
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