Is it what we choose to show,
Or, is it what we choose to see?
Yet, could we any better know,
Could we hope to any better be?
We want to be loved, and how!
- A bond for the lifetime we survey;
Yet, we want not an ever now,
Dream as we do of many a future day.
By and by, nothing's the same,
Neither we, nor our love for or from;
Who might we possibly blame,
What sad tune, hum, strum, and drum?
To love, is it to pet a likeness,
An ossified crumb of a sweet past?
Might we never ever confess,
Our inmost image that's been recast?
Or, to love, could we renew,
Our bond with every change in us?
They were, each one we knew,
But an approximation of the ambiguous!
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