The Quest for Meaning

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Wobbling on the brink of inexistence,
Each day a memoir to our fragile subsistence,
Buffeted by reminders of inevitable transience,
Marvelous, isn't it, that we persevere for meaning and substance?

Perhaps a reward for our defiant persistence,
Sometimes emerges that tune devoid of ego or pretense,
Concealed within cocoons of humdrum irrelevance,
That delicate form of immaculate presence,

That enchanting song, that moving drama,
That perfect equation, that flawless experiment,
That eloquent speech or that splendid game,
Marvelous, isn't it, that mark of meaning and substance?

Baby steps when you consider the distance,
These tiny islands of meaning in the sea of turbulence,
Yet an anchor they furnish for our existence...
Marvelous, isn't it, our journey for meaning and substance?