Somewhere in a forest, perhaps under a rock or atop a tree,
Somewhere out there, lives the number three.

In perfect existence,
Among all other things,
Among all of our truths, our lies,
Is the simplistic complication of fifteen.

There are threes, and fours, twenty-seven point fives,
Numbers are Real, they are all alive.
They live here now, they survive in time (literally).

Threeness.

Twelve.

199.

Free to dwell here in time,
A theory of numbers, one at a time.

Among all of my epistemological doubts,
I have nothing but faith, numbers are Real,
I'll never understand what they are all about,
Nevertheless, the weight of quanity has an all too certain feel.