Here Without You

Here floating on the ocean plane there rests A distant, heated haze – the suns remains, That slowly fall amid the mountain side: Each wave in elegant arc of chains, Like puppets hanging limply from a tide Of master clouds. I watch and all I think to think of is How many hands of time do we have near To us before you wane and fade one night, Like the duty drawn to disappear The herd of rays that gather in the light So soon to fall? I wonder would it be a waste to swim The ocean width to chase it quickly back: The sun on its descent? Or should I wait For dawn to break, for the sly attack Of ocean floors to cough the ball like bait Back to the world? And then, again, I think of you and think That if I was to trust, just like the sun Will meet the clouds, would you return Ascending mountains edge until you won My heart, or would the morning have to burn Without the sun?