Searching Daylight

Why does the normality of a day
Continue to elude my mind and hands,
When I grasp, there is but smoke to hold,
And my thoughts are wispy to focus on.

What exists is real and concrete,
I run to fight lungs that sting,
To vibrations that reach ears as music.
There is pleasure in these things.

Oh, why then do I find myself searching
Passionately, Intellectually, Spiritually
To fulfill an emptiness, to still
Some thing that may or may not be.

Yet I shall go on pouring water
Into this full glass,
Perhaps one day I will look down,
And see the puddle in which I stand.