A Calculated Fall

I thought about love today, and
I pondered which is preferable . . .
Love by accident, or
Love on purpose?

When we fall in love, it feels as if we tripped
And unexpectedly came to rest in a lover's heart,
Like some shallow puddle of serendipity.
We can do little more than sit there, damp and flushed,
Almost embarrassed by the clumsiness of our affection;
After all, we had no choice in the matter, and are
Content to blame our condition on gravity and timing.
How many times can one trip into love in one's lifetime?
I suspect that each puddle conceals a breathless familiarity.

Yet when we decide to love, and to be loved in return,
And we choose a mate via natural selection, offering our
Heart as a precious thing to be treasured – an abstract dowry –
It feels far from accidental, and far more clinical.
However, in that choice rests a certain, solid comfort that
We cannot help but make the right decision, for we would
Prefer to be alone and defiantly happy in our own small way,
Than in haste, choose wrongly, and become entrapped,
Or worse, look a fool in the eyes of Mendel or Darwin.

In actuality, my preference is neither, or perhaps both;
Romantically clumsy according to plan, or scientifically careless.
Perhaps the best method of finding love is accidentally, on purpose,
By way of a calculated fall.