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In One Way or the Other

A word of no understanding,
One way or another,
To know is too demanding.
Life is a parachute,
Falling through time,
With answers unspoken,
Crashing like a B-29.
It's meaningless,
And even out of reach,
This is a concept,
We can't study or try to teach.
Of course,
Everyone has a hypothesis,
And a small time allotted,
As one piece in a process.
So I go through the motions,
Living day after day,
Doing some work,
And maybe some play.
How should I live?
To be deep or be shallow?
Does it even matter?
If everyone's mind is hollow?

©1999-2019 Steve Bujanow

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