Sun dies as anything else

If I may see, as you do,
Horizontal lines only,
Assuming water’s so shallow,
I’ll forget the distance to sky.

If I may not see, as you do,
Leaves grow grey
And fly straight down,
How so soon they dry
And mix with soil;

If I may not see, as you do,
The dying dews,
How Sun burns rose petals,
And how soon Sun himself
plods wearily down;

If I may see, as you do,
Horizontal lines only,
Assuming water’s so shallow,
I’ll forget the distance to sky.

Copyright © July 17, 2018, Newton Ranaweera