Can you believe the skill that puts a probe on Eros 190 million miles in space?
Or the GPS that finds you within an inch of any given place?
Yet, when it really counts, when love must do its part,
Cupid uses only a bow and arrow to find a romantic heart.
In a sea of missed encounters, how does a single arrow find its mark?
There's no laser to guide it through the cold or cynic's dark.
Is it a shaft of graphite or a flowered or candied head?
Is it the bow or the strength of the archer instead?
Maybe the string when drawn back and the bow fully bent,
Guides Cupid's calling card that forces all to relent.
Maybe it's the alignment of the feathers
To push through all manner of nonromantic weather.
Actually, it is so simple and not really that mysterious or even that profound.
What is needed to prevent the arrow from missing and falling wasted upon the ground?
Only this, to make Cupid's arrow run swift, lasting and true,
Words truly meant and softly spoken, Valentine, I love only you.
Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet © February 14, 2001