We wander through days,
tracing lines on blank maps,
hoping for patterns.
What’s the point of it all,
we ask the silent sky,
waiting for echoes.
Some find meaning
in love, work, faith,
like lanterns in the dark.
But for most,
it’s a maze of shadows,
corners turning into corners.
Lucky are those,
those with stars to follow,
while we trip on loose stones.
Yet in the meandering,
the lost steps, the wrong turns,
maybe there’s something.
A whispered secret
in the wind’s sigh,
a glimpse of light at dusk.
But perhaps meaning isn’t found,
and we wander, searching,
only to grasp at mist.
A smile fades, a touch cools,
all parts of a puzzle,
unfinished, elusive.
So we keep walking,
through the maze, through the dark,
knowing some stars never shine.
SRD.
The Quest for Essence 