Meaning doesn’t reside in a year, a place
But in a fleeting moment, a spark of grace
It’s found along a path that leads nowhere
In the fragrance of a bloom in early May
In the smile of a stranger passing by
In a broken heart’s hopeless cry
Meaning is not found at destination
But in uncommon spells along the way
When silence speaks the language of a heart
That hopes while being shattered by despair
When with a single glance we can convey
Sweet words that we want but cannot say
Meaning is not a rock, it is a stream
That gently meanders through the mind and soul
In an uncharted journey without end
Carving its way through the tangled weeds
It lives in a maze of thoughts and fears
Peeking through the rubble of our deeds
Its company we seek, but all in vain
As it defies the grip of heart and brain
We build illusions we try to sustain
With the shadows of unbending faith
They become our beacon and our guide
To their hidden power we abide
When we have reached time to bid goodbye
We search through the relics of our past
Yearning for meaning far beyond the sky
Nothing we can find within our grasp
But all illusions that we mindfully reared
For meaning fled each moment it appeared