Is That All There Is?
Do you ever find yourself taking an unexpected pause
And in that brief hiatus, the enigmatic question arises
“Is that all there is?”
Most of the time we are propelled along by what has often been called
The daily round, the common task
The quotidian episodes of everyday living
Which maybe in themselves are meaningful enough
Perhaps it is fortunate that existential reflection
Is something for which we can find little time
And probably consider pointless anyway
However, every now and again we feel the need
To step off the treadmill, turn our back on the clamour
And ask ourself – what’s the point?
What’s driving us on – and where to anyway?
Throughout mankind’s seven ages
There is always something to do
Goals to reach, achievements to accomplish
Each age hallmarked by forward momentum
Growth the watchward of that decade
Until, bloated by the indulgence and excess
We grind to an undignified conclusion
And even after amassing some success
Of worldly goods, respect, perchance esteem
We yet remain unsated by it all
What was the point?
Wherein that illusive satisfaction
“is that all there is?”
The question still hangs poignantly