What is the measure of a life?
What is measure of love?
What is the measure of meaning?
What is the measure of me?
How do I know if I have truly lived?
How do I know if I have truly loved?
How do I know if I have meant something?
How do I know what I am?
To mean something, how many must I love?
Or is it, how well should I have loved the one?
To be more, must I mean more to them?
To those, to the others, must I matter?
Am I measured in their words of memorial?
Is my value packaged by their memories?
Does meaning come from men?
We say yes and no in the same breath,
Yet what is our life without loving another?
Maybe we determine it in the question,
Are we loving to live or living to love?
Have we tried to matter for us?
Or have we meant something despite us?
To love, to matter, to mean something.
What pleasure can replace this?
What sense or experience can compare
to our becoming the full measure of God?