Plural

A single tree is no forest

Nor grassy mead

Green blade’s behest

A solitary bird nay flock

A mount is just a pile of rock

Never the majestic range be;

What am I but a human being?

Singular is but insular

I cannot claim Humanity

Make virtue from plurality

When alone

Without the other

Like a child

Estranged from mother

Lone plover

With no flock to cove’

Nor discover

My brooding love

Until one’s other had embraced

A greater humanity graced

Love, I doubtlessly had unveiled

I welcome as brother, availed.

Cheung-Ling Wong

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