Seeking and finding my own self has been my constant quest,
Like a traveler in the desert, my thirst has no rest;
Digging deep, my strength gets drenched, leaving me pitiable,
Wells within seem empty and void as though lamentable!

A name I have, for namesake, though so preciously given,
Life-cart, though with rough and tough movements, often self-driven;
Possessions, some given some earned, all seeming so silly,
Something for far above often my depths calls me deeply!

Knowledge, strength, power and wealth seem boringly tiring me,
Eating and drinking and sleeping and waking have no glee;
In my smiles, laughs, cries, and weeps… my quest, like the full moon, glows,
In care, share, love, loss – like a swelling stream – quest overflows!

Why am I born? Why do I exist? What is my great goal?
What is my physic? What is my psyche? What’s the sole soul?
What should I think? What should I speak? How should I act and react?
Why should I admire? Why should I abhor? Is quest my pact?

The sea I see do not wake waves in response to my quest,
The forests and deserts cover all treasures at my zest;
The earth and cosmos cloak their secrets like history-scrolls,
Heavenly wonders too keep answers hidden in their souls!

In hills and vales and caves and mountains I search my being,
Before saints and sages seeking my true self, I’m kneeling;
Arrays of archives, books, and almanacs give no answer,
My quest seems to eat my interiors like blood cancer!

In this quest for existence, span spent is whole life and more,
Some little grains; more of chaff; the rest have no proper score;
The question – what’s life? – remains, yet, like an unsolved puzzle,
I drink from my wells, yet, never quenched, find me still guzzle!

Inner yearning to know me wholly ablaze like wildfire,
Will this be calm and the truth comes to stay when I retire?
This quest was, in me, inborn before my birth in the womb;
Will I be able to quench it before I reach my tomb?