Sunday, October 26, 2003

What Makes Me Go On

Ask me not what makes me go on
To the rocky ridges and valleys beyond

For the sake of the sweet smell of pine
I trek along the mountain’s spine

From the mountain’s top to the meadow’s lake
For flowers wild my fingers ache

My life as if hung on a line
Drunk I am with streams alpine

I know not if I am in pain
With open arms I embrace the rain

I’ve slept under the stars and trees
In the moonlit sky bent on my knees

For what? I do not know I pray
Tearful yet my eyes betray

To loose the feel and sense of time
To be a mere walking shrine

To blend along the colorless wind
Ah! No I don’t belong to Sindh

So ask me not what makes me go on
A broken heart or feelings torn