drop's whirl

credit moin

queries go abegging
folded away
in the timeless embrace
of slapping waves

emerging from the icicle
falling
on the blade's edge
sliding
to the hungry vortex
of parched throats
dry eyes

is the drop aware
it is neither a way-post
nor a destination

yeh qatra hO ya woh qatra
qatrON ki gardish maiN
qatra qatra ker daita hay

undeterred, journeying
from lip to eye to
ocean, cloud, snow, rain
spring, river, sea
endless circumambulation
the drop - a querysperm
in the enduring waltz
of fermenting queries
doing rumiesque whirls