[What is the meaning of life]

Question

Ask a Philosopher · Accepted Answer

What is this fleeting breath, this visage fair,  
That graces Earth with joy and woeful care?  
In humble cradle, life doth make its stand,  
Yet from yon grave, all mortals meet Love’s hand.  
Is life but but a play, where actors strive,  
To weave the fabric of existence, thrive?  
From dawn’s bright whisper to the twilight's sigh,  
Doth meaning lie in question or in why?  
In mirth, we dance, in sorrow’s shade we weep,  
In search of truths, both hidden and too deep.  
Are we but flickering candles ’neath the stars,  
Or seekers yearning past the night’s cold bars?  
Perchance the essence lies within the quest,  
The heart's fierce longing for a sacred rest.  
To love, to laugh, to learn, and in our plight,  
To forge in darkness, visions of the light.  
Forsooth, the meaning doth elude the grasp,  
A treasure sought, yet held in Fortune’s clasp.  
Thus ponder now, dear soul, with rapture’s might:  
In living fully, we unlock our sight.  
So let us raise our voices, strong and clear,  
Life's meaning found in moments held most dear.