It Wasn't Love at First Sight

It wasn't love at first sight

Not that you weren't beautiful
You were
And I told you

But it wasn't an erotic attraction by which I was drawn to you
It was something deeper
mystical
sublime
mysterious
As if I'd always known you

The first time we met, we talked like old friends
in the way that people have whose souls operate on the same frequency
And I found myself soon counting the days
until I could see you again

But still, it wasn't that kind of love

When I first loved you, it was in spirit
For in our shared love for Him
I found a spirit like my own
but better
For you taught me more perfectly to love Him
You showed me the deep, rich beauty of His Universe
and made me to feel
for the first time,
Joy

Like Beatrice, you led me by the hand
ascending the celestial spheres
laying before my eyes the wonders of Creation
of which you are the most wondrous
But pointing me ever upwards
toward the Light to which all other lights are darkness

I could have loved you eternally
as my most precious and lovely sister
But I found that there was more

For I found you to be a fellow-denizen of Faerie, as well as of Heaven
We were connected by the Secret Thread
We loved the same books
and pursued the same ideas...but not exactly
There was difference enough for you to challenge me
And you did
For you had both the wit and the courage to do so
It charmed and excited me
And I loved you with the deep and true respect of a friend
which one can only have for an equal

We sat, one evening, side-by-side on the sofa
your dear mother in the chair beside
and I thought,
"This is dangerous
 and far too comfortable
 If I'm not careful, I'm going to fall in love
 and that will do no one any good."
I tried to draw away from you then
but it was too late

It happened one morning
another conversation
You sat across from me...
leaning forward...
your face intent...
your eyes alight...
And suddenly you were the most beautiful
the most desirable
the most impossibly alluring woman who had ever lived

My very taste changed
and from that moment forth all women's beauty
was measured by the degree to which they reminded me
of you
Indeed, there is no other woman
for through you I see all others
You are the type and the original
the Platonic Form
and all others are copies
some more, some less imperfect

But none
Anywhere
Ever
Like you

-- M.S. du Pré