Written by: Mari Nova

What is it, Poetry, to me ? 
It’s like a cloud…
It flies above my head, in sky,
To touch the stars.
And while I am standing
On the land and singing loud
My words are traveling 
From Venus to the Mars…

What is it, Poetry, to me ?
It’s sunshine morning…
It clears my spirit and my soul
Like a stream.
One day it’s warm, another day 
It’s windy storming.
Today it’s real
And tomorrow just a dream…

What can I do without Poetry ?
No doubts…
I won’t make another step
And have my way.
It’s in my heart, it’s in my head,
In all my routes…
Without Poetry
There is no other day…

August 2008