Whirling Dervish

Satish Verma

In being and unbeing 
I come to you today― 
in unconscious state. 
Excessively leaning on 
cause, it is not heart― 
not brain. Just a beat. 
Evening is settling 
down. Time flew past. Birds 
going home. A lone moon 
will rise. 
Underground thoughts start― 
stunning the secrets. 
You open the lost book. 
In war go the alphabet. 
Questions arise. After all― 
who was me. 
The awakening begins.

georgeschaefer's picture

interesting poem.  Is this

interesting poem.  Is this related to the whirling dervishes in Turkey?