Sight, the colored canvas's in my mind
the sun the sea the land beneath
every thing upon which you've shined
your revealing light becomes belief
touch, the silent message born of love
another gift from life to life
to know the softness of the skin
to know the sharpness of the knife
Sound, the music of reality
the beating universal drum
Life's continuing harsh symphony
It's never ceasing gentle hum
taste, the message from the tongue to brain
the bitter warning not to eat
both pleasure or a type of pain
the polarity of sour sweet
Smell, the priceless talent of the nose
giving flavor to the air
wherewith we appreciate the rose
and separate the foul and fair
If we as all humanity
were simply accidents of time
what use would all these treasures be
to know both wretched and sublime