Thirty

Thirty

Trinity and infinity walking off the page together

Unified field and the void finding each other home

Not prime but a perfectly adequate number binding

Together the many and the one, the diaspora and

The singularity, third time is the charm but the day

Always comes back down to zero dark thirty, why

Is not a word that leads anywhere in this dialogue

Of self and no self, received theology, existential

Evidence of nothingness, how we all start and we

Start again from the same place, rediscovering the

Same truth that only becomes true when each one

Reveals it fresh, pulsing in this created place, we

Watch and wait and then forget, believing it will

Keep on ticking, and now the sun has gone and

What was true rejoins the caravan of vanishing,

So in the morning if the light returns we will be

Faced with the choice again, do we put together

Three and nothing, or nothing and one, or do we

Make words of nothing and lift them to the sun?