Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Meaning


What is the meaning of life is often asked to lending ears

Quickly the answer comes with little satisfaction of the assuring words

The old and the young sound the same when speaking of this

Each has determine what has been presented is worthwhile satisfaction

This is what it is all about someone may say of a sandwich or a trophy

But echoing words are meaningless to us who see only what is proclaimed

Life goes ever so slow and yet the morning runs into the night

Meanings has brought much turmoil and unexplainable events

Groupings of meanings seem to explain but the search continues

Listen to the story of singing swallows that don’t complain but give thanks

In their musical tones flowing through the air to reach those who listen

Yes, there is a meaning in the air if you hear what is spoken to you

The created flying beings seem not see the traffic lights in red or yellow

Who sings to them when they are down or do they listen to themselves

Tears come down my cheeks when I think of all the small who hurt and cry

We may seek meaning when the meaning is already there in us

Answers to deep thoughts are slow to find and hard to hear easily

A morning can bring some meaning yet direction lacks our focus

Another morning brings another meaning and still no light shines the path

Time gone by is examined by someone seeing many mornings to find that

Each one is as fresh as the next bringing newness and joy

Sing to me young bird that I may see another morning and look for more

To come because I begin to see that meaning is not in-between but in the continuance

Of the little ones walking and the old moving to where they find significance

Meaning can not be seen but yet all speak of it or are determine to find it

Meaning can not to be found but it is a mere journey to your final destiny.

Take care of yourself and those around you in your journey afar

Because a measurement speaks of you in what you did in search of meaning.

By Dan Rodriguez





***This was written by my father Dan Rodriguez. This is just a piece of work but he hopes to write a book one day.
Isleen

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