A Bench, A Bond

There is a bench at the local park, under the shade of trees
Where the couples rest, under the dark, with a cold breeze
Some words spoken, some left unsaid
But still visible on their faces, their feelings, expressed

There is a bench at the dilapidated factory, overrun by weeds and creepers
Where the little children, who are free, curse
And laugh and play and sing with each other
Making memories with their friends, who they think of as a brother

There is a bench at the middle of the main market
Where some kids are buying toys, some men are serving sweets, and some are selling carpet
A family is seen resting, planning to go shopping and dining, specifically in this order
One of the rare times, all of them are, at the same place, together

There is a bench at the beach, graced by the view of an endless sea
With biscuit in hand a woman sits, sipping her coffee or tea
Thinking what's in store for her future
Maybe a loving family, and a great career

What is our place in society? What is our purpose?
Philosophers have come and gone, stamping their opinion, mostly verbose sometimes terse
But always unable, to convince with utmost surety
With their elaborate theories: interesting, but with idealistic purity

What we do know is that there are connections
Interlinked among humans across all sections
Bonds, as we call it, which provide meaning to our existence
I feel I'll be alright, with some persistence

If there is someone beside me, If there is a goal I need to quench
If for each bond I need, I could find a bench