of my solitude,
I ask my senses:
whose blessings should I seek,
to cross over the mountains
of my responsibilities,
that engulf me like volcanoes.
My success will depend
on what —
to escape the net of reincarnation!
Will my spin of acts
carry my form to a particular
chartered route, region?
Tomorrow.
Ah! Tomorrow never stops
to invite me, yet,
to another neck of journey —
where a newer destination
awaits to approach me,
not the final, though!
As always...
As my learning thoughts
raise eager banners,
quizzically dotted with puzzled queries —
my judgement is at its wits end.
And no answers come.
1996
Geeta Chhabra
