The inspiration of today's post comes from watching The Bachelor (Season 3 - Andrew Firestone). hurhur... always tot that show is too bimbo... even for me... but i enjoy watching cos i enjoy watching people in courtship. sure there's a lot of needless frechkissing, sarcasm and b*tching all over the place.

But what i like is to watch the couple discover the chemistry and start guessing what's going on in each other's mind. the beauty of the birth of a relationship - slowly discovering each other with passion at the same time feeling butterflies in their stomach. The show is really a instant noodle edition of present day dating - not that i condone all the lofty romantic confessions and kissing the next girl in line once heads are turned but that's what dating nowadays is about...

and the most beautiful part is always the part when the boat finally docks after travelling the seven (or more) seas... ahhh... love is B-E-A-U-tiful... ;)

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT by Wieslawa Szymborska

They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is more beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.

Since they'd never met before, they're sure
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways--
perhaps they've passed by each other a million times?

I want to ask them
if they don't remember--
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
a curt "wrong number"caught in the receiver?--
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.

They'd be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.

Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.

There were signs and signals,
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who knows, maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?

There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another
beforehand.
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
One night. perhaps, the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.

Every beginning
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.