The Sun Of Hope Poem by Harish k. Thakur

From the top of the mountain hill
Where the Sun keeps its warm head
Every morning,
Runs down the Sun of a new morn
And the sun of my hope
Rises too.

I wake up with a blind eye
To behold the stream
Of your incandescent locks,
And chase the dream
Of stealing fire
From your gut.

My shadow bluffs me
As I near you
And melts into the pool
It weaves under my feet.

Again I rise
From my shadow
And climb up the hot terrain
To touch your face
And hold your locks
Until you extend
Your bright arms
To embrace me