The need to speak, to fill the air with words,
to crowd the planet's chaos with our chatter!
What nonsense it all is, how little does it matter.
The need to sing, to fill the air with song,
to force another note into life's songbook!
How trivial it is, how devoid it is of outlook.
The need to dance, to fill the air with feet,
to match our presence with the wind and hail!
How meaningless it is, how doomed it is to fail.
The need to act, to fill the air with arms,
to come and see and conquer, and to Be!
How we have tried, and ended without glee.
The need to think, to fill the air with thought,
to change rough seedling into blossomed flower!
How old it all is, and how devoid it is of power.
Yet, to have no need, to live and breathe and sleep,
to take each moment and assess its meaning!
It is from moments history does its gleaning.