Spring is stuttering and trying to start
While I search for magic in the dark
And as the world brightens, through cold that is weaning
I remain confounded and looking for meaning.
Pleasant weekend that has almost run its course
Tries winning its fight against time’s ancient force
But Monday approaches with its mind-boggling mist
I seriously doubt I’ll find its gist
Then the days and the weeks and the months saunter by
There go the seasons as time starts to fly
My questions become diluted in the calendar dance
And I stop believing in any significance
The years start to carve lines in my face
My heart grows comfortable in its lonely place
Middle-age body full of achy joints
Remains unconvinced that there’s any point
Yet...
I still search for magic in this senseless life
While fighting the shadows and holding off strife
Using laughter and music to fight off the cry
I have a feeling, I will never know why.
Long... drawn-out... albeit hopeful... sigh.
