I do math for the light, the moment of truth, the gleam

when I open the curtains, and show the full glaring sun.  O constant fire,

spreading light where once there was confusion; one solution,

two solutions, three solutions, four--they all tangle up

and shine through all the problem’s squiggles

and all the squaggles!  I do math for that moment.

I do math for the moment when all the parts in my brain realize

they all have the will and the energy to climb that huge flight of stairs;

Is it easier to crawl? That way you won’t fall

but it is better to run? That way things get done.

Twenty steps, ten steps, three, two, one!  And

panting on the top like the slobbering dog who fetched,

or the once-bounding tiger now folding its arms above its dinner,

all our tails wagging.  I do math for that moment.

I do math for the same reason every math-doer does math.

The hiking boot never knows if it has tasted the dirt before;

but everyday I take my thinking cap out of its closet and explore

the world full of its many trails, and maps that I don’t use.

They say in the ER not to go to the light;  I do math for the moment

the clouds explode

and the light comes to me.