Ah! Life! What can it possibly mean, my friend?
Tell me, before I off to Heaven send.
For wondering, tho' it furrows deep my brow,
At least it is some means of time to spend.

So many questions seem no answers for,
No matter how I pound upon the door,
The doorman may be deaf, or perhaps the lack
Of a secret password missed he must deplore.

An 'Open Sesame' to Aladdin's cave,
Would give me all the answers that I crave,
For answers must be there, this much I know,
Or the fabric of the Universe is betrayed.

So many of us stand in similar plight,
Poets and philosophers day and night,
Waiting with an empty cup in hand,
Pleading - "Fill my cup and give my mind respite."

But knowledge is a trick, it seems to me,
For which 'reduction' is an illusory key,
For if reduced from whole what then is left?
For the whole is where resides the mystery.

I think of Heidegger's 'Being and Time',
A mighty, detailed argument, for mine,
Would discard the answer with the argument,
If it were to be reduced to a single line.

So if we are to know by what Life's meant,
Must journey through its joy and discontent,
For what reduction would do for understanding,
Is reduce the meaning of our Life's content.

That which we've done, our battles won and lost,
When weighed upon Life's ledger as a cost,
What matters then our deeds when all is done,
If into the grave with us our deeds are tossed?