Floating, not unlike Zen

Somewhere in the world, white laces brown
Another month marching in
With the flag of change
Green for everyone, life for all
Somewhere else, in a hot room
A patient lay watching ants
Making patterns on the wall
Like the garage sale art piece
Gifted as a get-well-soon

Of what purpose is the patient or the ants
Or the changing color of leaves
For aren't we all stories or settings
Chasing immortality
I'm not as timeless as that story
Where the boy cried wolf
I'm not as cool as Chuck Palahniuk
Attempting for generations to move
I'm not as kind as the love
That changes hearts or inspires two

Maybe my purpose is to be that one
Who remembers, recites, lives as the others
The medium of yesterday unto a few more
Not for art as created, but the one that smiles
Maybe in a world where everyone wants to make a mark
My purpose is to listen and be influenced
Universe, am I at Zen yet?