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Thursday, March 26, 2009

drop's whirl

untitled by moin
credit moin

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

emerging from the icicle
on the blade's edge
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


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