What meaning is meaning what? (poem)

Note: This is a piece I have pulled out of the archives. I thought it might be fun to post this during this week as a way to celebrate both National Poetry Month (which is in April) and Holy Week. I will plan to do poetry readings videos for the rest of week, if anyone's interested (These are specifically available for my family and friends on Facebook.) (I'll still do them to amuse myself even if no one's interested- lol. :-)) 
The text of the poem and a little introduction is below. Enjoy! Happy Easter!
In honour of Holy Week and The Lord Jesus, I also wanted to read poems reflecting on the sacrifice Jesus made for all of us when He died and rose to pay for all sins for all time. We can have forgiveness of sins and salvation from the hell we deserve and entry into the Heaven we don't deserve all through our faith in the love God has for us and the salvation He has provided through Christ! (Romans 10:9-13)
................................................................................
This poem employs the language of language itself to make a spiritual point. English major nerds should appreciate this. ;-) (Of which I would totally consider myself part of that number. I minored in English myself.) It's largely inspired by one of my favourite Bible books- Ecclesiastes- and the wisdom found there about The Lord Jesus who truly brings meaning to our life, both here and eternally.


What meaning is meaning what?

(original poem copyright Nathan Ludwick 2/27/2010) 

(Proverbs 25:11, John 10:10, Ecclesiastes 1:1, Ecclesiastes 2:10-11)

Every sentence has a verb for proper meaning.
It seems every sentience has a verb in the meaning of meaning.
Are the well to do the ones who have done well?
Well, to do is what we all seem to strive for.
We're not content to simply just be because
It's not enough of an action word.
The amazing paradox of the vernal equinox
Is having all the time in the world yet nothing to do.
We can mask the panic in our eyes with layers
Of activities and tasks for responsible adult lives.
But when we give ourselves a moment to breathe and not think
We realize we don't know how to do nothing and not sleep.
Boredom and laziness may be bosom buddies
But the problem Is in our bosom beneath that cushion.
We have plans, goals and dreams mapped out for life
But the list of things to do before kicking the bucket
When all accomplished is still just a drop in the bucket
And it's never enough to wash our car, much less our heart.
Love of self is the bacteria that lines the inside
And man's search for meaning makes but a poor bandage
Our verbs still serve only to propel our own renown
We need a modifier to change our life sentence
And the aptly spoken Word sets us back on the street
With a joyous adverb as we narrowly tread from dross to gold.

..........................................