Poetry flows from our hearts. It is like that mass of snow we call a glacier and when it starts its slow movement, it thaws all the icicles, which keep mounting within us, in the hope of receiving the warmth of words.

Putting a few words together does not make poetry. A poem has a soul, a heart and an emotion. Even a Haiku is meaningless without a soul.

We know The wheel of time moves on New bonds, new ties ignite Moments fleet, memories drift, shadows glide There is always a hope At the horizon we seek.

Poetry is like open windows, which welcome all kinds of breeze.