I am
as this dead
fly, scraping
back and forth
along the
window sill,
manipulated
by currents
of stale hot air.
My life is
purposeless,
as meaningless
as the dry
husk of this
blowfly.
must a life have meaning? The moment will pass into another, a shaft of warm yellow sunlight, a drifting shadow brilliant against the snow no less meaningless, no less beautiful. The tyranny of purpose is good to be liberated from sometimes...........
Hi Lauren - I would rather my life have some meaning, to leave some positive imprint on people or events, than to fade from obscurity here on earth into the final oscurity, leaving nothing to mark your existence, making no good impression on mankind, even at a simple level of relational interaction between a man and a woman. And my life does have some meaning, as I was just waxing poetic like you and I will tend to do. Huh?
2 comments:
must a life
have meaning?
The moment will pass
into another, a shaft of warm
yellow sunlight,
a drifting shadow
brilliant against the snow
no less meaningless, no less
beautiful.
The tyranny of purpose
is good to be liberated from
sometimes...........
Hi Lauren - I would rather my life have some meaning, to leave some positive imprint on people or events, than to fade from obscurity here on earth into the final oscurity, leaving nothing to mark your existence, making no good impression on mankind, even at a simple level of relational interaction between a man and a woman. And my life does have some meaning, as I was just waxing poetic like you and I will tend to do. Huh?
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