Oh, Why Do I?

A mind that stops questioning is a stagnant mind where no stones roll; where slime settles on thoughts that fixes human action; where to act otherwise would raise questions that have themselves gathered moss.

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Why do I question, Oh, why?

Is it me? Or is it the answer?

Why do I have a question

For every thought that strikes?

Is it me that hears a question

In the echo of an answer?

An answer that is a question

To which every answer

Another question?

Why can’t it be simple

The answer to any question?

Or is it that the answer

Is an answer that questions

The very reason of being?

Questions and answers

Both chase tails in vain

Caught in the whirlwind

I ride the merry-go-round

Jubilant and quizzical

Questions on my tongue.

Why do I question, Oh, why?

Is it me? Or is it the answer?

© Nalini Hebbar/openmind/2009 - all rights reserved

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