In Search of Meaning

Turning, Turning, Turning
The sun is shining
The moon is glowing
Turning, Turning, Turning
I wonder as I wander *
Turning, Turning, Turning

As a child I wanted to understand
This world I breathed
Now that I am older
I realize life is not just what we perceive
It is what we deliver and what we receive.
This is making meaning.

Turning, Turning, Turning
I wonder as I wander *
Turning, Turning, Turning

Some philosphers say we are not
Isolated beings but social individuals
Who bring perspectives to life
Shaping the world to be as it seems.
This is making meaning.

Even though our names go unknown
Our faces never recognized
Friendships never realized
Together we conceive the world
We breathe.

Turning, Turning, Turning
I wonder as I wander *
Turning, Turning, Turning

Channels on the television
Pages in the newspaper
Only to find materialistic realism
Advertised between war-torn landscapes
With leaders' forrowed brows and pointed fingers
Claiming protection against the enemy:
Making dangerous meaning.

Cycling propaganda tossed back and forth
Recruiting young and old to believe
The Other is against the self.
My head is

Spinning, Spinning, Spinning
Yet, the sun keeps shining
The moon keeps glowing
Spinning, Spinning, Spinning
I wonder as I wander*
Spinning, Spinning, Spinning

Sometimes life appears so clear
While other times, it is convoluted
Polluted with self-interests that
Reject peace and humanity.
Who is at fault for such inconsistencies?
Life is what we deliver and what we receive.
How are we to find meaning across manufactured borders?

We make life turn, we make it spin
We accept the sun, we reject its illumination
We acknowledge the moon's glow, we keep our eyes in darkness.
Don't you ever wonder as you wander
About the real life of the Other?
This is making.
This is finding.
This is meaning.



* title of Langston Hughe's autobiography