Accepting 1+3=1
by Odin Roark

This kitchen's possession of one cup,
Its chipped saucer and usually dirty spoon
Serves one man's thankful fingers blending
A dollop of cream.

Atop the counter,
3 visiting ants pass from the French Press,
Seeming separate,
Seeming alone,
Seeming aimless,
Wandering about
Our mutually tasty landscape.

How barren the cold porcelain
For those so distant from the nest,
That their seeking antennae never touch,
Never acknowledge one another,
Assuring reality's connection
That all is well.

Perhaps…

Until inexhaustible solitude
Accepts 1 + 3 = 1,
Allowing all intrusions their space,
Be they insects, or emotion’s unpredictability,
The cup,
The coffee,
Thinking’s swirling continuance
Stirring darkness to disappear,
Will eventually see the light mixed into dawn,
Revealing the way.

And there is always a way,
Patience willing,
For to abide and accommodate is not defeat,
Merely understanding aloneness needs
Its many reflections
As friends.