HONORING THE SENSES
By John Herlihy

We admire the beauty of a single feather,
That lifts the bird effortlessly into the wind.
A child plays happily in autumn’s weather,
Taking delight in the colored leaves fringed.

We taste the seasoning of nutmeg and clove,
Fresh strawberries decked with clotted cream.
Taste gives its verdict after all that we strove,
If we didn’t taste, then what would food seem.

We seek to smell the perfume of things to feel,
Peel back all the layers to get to the inner core.
Our dreams torn from clouds to be made real,
Mist, rain, snow all have smell and much more.

Through the day, we hear the chimes of the hour;
There is inner music to the sound of nature’s call.
Seasonal melodies each contain their own power;
The ear carefully listens, but the mind is in thrall.

The sense of touch is oft the one sense ignored,
To see, to taste, to smell, to hear makes us bold.
But when we are touched, we finally feel adored,
No one can take that away, you are there to hold.

We now honor the senses for what they truly are;
We love and cherish them as they make us whole.
They reach up into the heavens and touch a star;
In return, the star reaches down to touch our soul.