The Meaning of Life: A Poem

 

The Meaning of Life
A Poem

 

The meaning of life is
there is no meaning.
The meaning of life is THIS
and he holds up one crooked finger
and you ask what that is and
he says You have to figure that out
for yourself and yeah
you got that from a movie or something
but you thought you knew what
your something was
meaning you thought it was love
as if you tried to love everyone
meaning you have this huge love to give
but who you love keeps changing
meaning they keep leaving
as if You’re Gone by Diamond Rio
is your anthem
but it’s not that you change
who you love just that you change
the focal point of that love
and you just let one more go
not that you stop loving
but you know you can let go
and wait at the same time
hoping that last one will come back for once
meaning are you too hard to love?
too much?
why do they leave?
meaning you may never know
but who you love is growing
meaning more love more growth more faces
more hearts more broken people
to see inside their brokenness
and love them anyway
meaning it hurts sometimes
but maybe that’s your meaning
your feather of hope:
your other half
isn’t a half
you’re whole by yourself
because you stand alone
loving them whole
until they leave
better because they knew you
one more scar
one more love
one more meaning
this life shared again
here may I help you
I see you broken
by the side of the road.

 

by Julie S. Paschold
aka Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle

6.9.26

Dinner With My Son

 Dinner with My Son the Day Before Mother’s Day

―To Lyle

 

You are paying for dinner and we are going out,
a Mexican restaurant we know well
but I haven’t been to in a while. I comment we don’t
have the cute balding waiter that’s been here forever
and knows his stuff but we bumble through
with the guy we’ve been given, though he’s lousy.
Midway through we notice the booths have “cilantro”
engraved in their backs, an herb I am not fond of,
so I make a squishy face and you capture it on camera.

We drive through the lofty neighborhoods,
looking at rich people’s houses, wide-eyed at all the
windows and landscaping, angles and architecture.
We choose our favorites, then realize our gratitude
at having a home of our own, though humble.

You take me out for ice cream and I can’t decide
what I want (typical me) and the conversation flows

so easily throughout the night I wonder at how
we got here...mother and son. I am not so much
guiding you as walking beside you, not so much
leading you as being a trusted mentor and friend.

At the end of the adventure, walking back to the house,
I pause to notice a sphynx moth praying at
our lilac bush in this darkening evening,
drinking its nectar. We both lean in, head-to-head,
just to marvel at this miracle.

 

 

by Julie S. Paschold
aka Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle

5.10.26

Violent Seams in the Concrete

 

Dancing With Purpose

 Dancing with Purpose
A Poem

Dancing with Purpose
--After Aaron Davis

What are you afraid of?
he asks in a podcast online
earlier in the day and it
sticks with me
not able to answer that
not able to articulate exactly
what I’m not confronting
or what I’m wanting
What is my potential?
He tells me to start walking
in purpose—
toward what?
I don’t know yet

Later that night
at a costume party
in front of the fire
we start talking about dancing
now that we’re sober—
something I haven’t done
my sweatshirt covering
my costume

I’m pulled into the center
of the circle, sweatshirt off,
told if I’ve got it, flaunt it,
wear it, may I take a picture,
whoops and hollers.
But still I don’t dance.

What am I afraid of?

Late that night, held in bed, 
it comes to me as my man whispers 
I got you:
I’m afraid to be seen unhindered,
I’m afraid of pleasure, of joy.
As if I don’t deserve it
as if dancing implies a loss of control
one step towards crazy:
she’s lost it, like anyone cares.

I’m not afraid of what people think,
I’m afraid of what I feel when I let go:
that freedom, that flying,
that belly-dropping openness.
I’m afraid to dance.

So tomorrow I’m playing the music.
I’m taking off the bulky clothes.
I’m loving the me that I am now.
I’m dancing…
no matter who’s watching.

No walking in purpose. Instead,
I’m dancing in purpose. 
Without fear.

By Julie S. Paschold

10.26.25

Julie S. Paschold (Tansy Julie the Soaring Eagle) is a poet and artist from Nebraska with a BS and MS in agronomy from the University of Nebraska at Lincoln. They have published three poetry books. Horizons (Atmosphere Press: paperback & audiobook) honors soil through family, identity, and nature, and won a Nebraska Book Award in 2024. Their chapbook You Have Always Been Here (Bass Clef Books: paperback) is an unconventional love story.  Human Nature (WSC Press: paperback & Atmosphere Press: audiobook) explores humanity’s ecological and environmental connection to nature and the planet earth. Julie is the resident poetry instructor at Omaha’s Lauritzen Gardens and is registered with the Humanities Nebraska Speakers Bureau. Julie has been published in a wide range of publications. Their poem “Multitudes of Blue Arrows” was a semi-finalist in the first Kate Sommers Memorial Prize in 2023, and two of their chapbooks won honorable mention in contests by Writer's Digest in 2021 and 2022. They volunteer for the international Human Library Organization.