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

Harish k. Thakur

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sun-of-hope/