More?

She listens to
teenage bickering,
television blaring,
remembers the laundry
waiting, and asks,
“Is this all there is?”
She sighs with longing
she can not recognize,
but which throbs its
pulse of discontent
beneath a life well
lived but missing
something unidentified.

Why am I alive, here
on this planet? What
is the purpose of my life?
of any life?

Big questions which open
the door of discovery
nudging us onto the
path of return to our Creator.