What is the meaning of meaning you ask
As if understanding could even unmask
The word described by the word is just cagey
And the search for it, well, that’s pretty new agey

Perhaps it’s the happiness, before we focus on dread
Our beauty that’s fleeting before we are dead
It hums in the silence, it leaps through the air,
It thrives in knowing — and not knowing — it’s there.

Yesterday whispered, “You’re nothing at all,”
Today stretches forward, a tentative call.
Tomorrow might gift me a torchlight, a spark,
Or leave me still wandering blind in the dark.

It’s both the climb and the ache in our knees.
It’s both the summers warmth and the winter’s freeze
It shouts in our triumph, but it hides when we lose,
An whisper of a mumble that will only confuse.

The search for the question, or the answer’s pursuit,
An enigma of itself that will never compute
A cosmic conundrum, a riddle, a game—
the meaning of meaning is one and the same.