In first, word was. Ocean, earth, sky were mankind's discover.
But in man's mind world lived another way
This was idea. Creation's and thought's wonders aren't yet over,
Though everything is not a wonder everyday.
On pentagram poet has every note, a sweet melody,
Poet can get angry and rebel thinking it's natural:
He'll be heard and, to the power, he'll hand somebody.
Poetry world is rich in meadows, trees, hearts: it's final.
Every feeling returns towards an old love,
However poet needs a new sweetheart and God above.
Paolo Giuseppe Mazzarello
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poet-41/
