POETRY

Comes from the heart and addresses to it.
As a water that raises from a sea, return to it.
Or a cloud that evaporates higher then travels.
Crossing heavens to where its reader dwells.
A poem can be born in a place grows in another.
So many poets are foreign in their Environments.
Who poetizes seems to some of odd statements.
Yet minds those hunt images must be talented.
To be able to chase ideas then able to weave.
Who can’t grasp meanings ,deems them a rave .
As poetry addresses to feelings it’s sublime.
Besides this it exhilarates with its rhyme.
Hearts venerate it ,as it’s a spiritual remedy.
That cures what no doctor can make ready.
Who is given faculty to versify is lucky.
It’s relation between the heart and a sky .
Where suffering and moaning voices meet.
Any work can end ,but what’s artistic can’t set.
Hearts those rest in it may still not born yet.
Because it’s an expression that mirrors any state.
Talking about poetry’s wonder can never end.
When poetry stands even stubborn heats bend.