Digging absurdity

In a world where tasks seem vain ,
Like Sisyphus in endless strain,
We toil,we struggle ,day and night ,
Chasing shadows out of sight.

But the dog ,with dirt- streaked paws ,
Digging on without a cause,
Finds joy in every furrow deep,
A journey rich though we don't keep.

The absurdity, in truth,can lead,
To  paths that helps the soul to feed,
Not empty steps,but life in bloom,
A deeper sense beyond the gloom.

In postmodern prose ,we find the key,
To see that absurdity sets us free.
Not just a path that circles back,
But one that shows us what we lack.