We’re born,
We die.
In between,
we figure out why

The meaning of life is love letters to yourself,
The meaning of life is facing the dark inside,
and coming out the other side.

But mostly,
It's hope.
It's the sun rising after a lonely night.
It's the rain tumbling onto your upturned face.
It's an old poem, a dusty book.
But most of all,
It's joy

Like the flower in my Maa's garden
which withered away, after all the love;
Maa wonders if she could have
Kept her alive a day or two longer.
And I think of you, if I could have
made you stay, with all my heart,
but you were one of those wildflowers
which died only a little more with love.