Like many of Shakespeare’s other works, this is a love poem for a woman or man who ... that once left us awed—like a rainbow ...

Love is not exclusive to lovers. It's for anyone and everyone. If it were not there would be no ministers or priests to preach. No Mother Theresa or teachers to teach. No one looking up at the moon ...

the kind of love that can shock us with its fluency, its ease (perhaps after years of bad choices). But now I’m talking about me, and not the poem, which speaks for itself in any case.