42

There are long days full of languidness,

Of snoozing in the Sun,

Merging with the Earth,

Lapping at the waters like an Animal,

Letting something primal tickle at the back

Of your consciousness:

And this is the meaning of life.


There are cold moments of logic,

Analyzing, breaking down the components

That make things tick,

That make them function, and are

Driven by a need to create, which is

Inherently human:

And this is the meaning of life.


There are songs that pierce you,

Sonorous and other-worldly,

That stem from the divine substratum

Of the collective subconscious

That binds us all together in one lump

Of creatures we call human:

And this is the meaning of life.


There are substances we call drugs,

To eat and smoke and snort and smell

And wear and watch, to taste and hear,

To ride and sleep upon,

To be filled with, and dive inside:

And they awaken our minds to wonder:

And this is the meaning of life.


There are clothes to wear upon our skin,

And days when clothes should be shed

Beneath an Autumn Sun,

When the Trees also shed their clothes;

Limbs a-quiver in September's breezes,

While we quake beneath them:

And this is the meaning of life.


There are Rivers to slide into -

Sinuous things; sleek and silver.

And we can jump together,

And cling, intertwined like gnarled roots

While a Force beyond us guides us,

Underfoot.

And this is the meaning of life.


There are nights when we howl at the Moon -

Violet and pale, luminous and strange,

Both eerie and familiar; suspended from nothing

In space. Just beyond our reach

And thrust into our consciousnesses,

And promising us nothing...but comforting.

And this also, is the meaning of life.

---