Senses

Our senses are gifts given to appreciate everything and everyone that is there.
Senses are there to see even in the darkest, to hear in the noisiest and to feel even in nothingness.


The eyes. It is used to see light and darkness alike. It is used to capture images that will be stored as memories to be cherished.
But then the same eyes that see beauty, see what is not beautiful. Eyes that are peeking with concealment into whatever is there. Judging. Eying. Painfully tainting the perfection in the imperfections of things and beings.

The ears. Allows to cherish words that are spoken, sung and those that are even unheard --the ears of the heart. Hearing opens the gates of the imagination fastened between the silence in each and everyone.
But these ears. They are used to distort the beauty of silence. They distort the rhythm of life. Sounds are to be taken as they are. Words are to be understood as they are said. But the ear. These ears. They destroy what is supposed to be imperfectly perfect.

The sense of taste. Tasting the sweetness and the bitterness of all that is there.
But this one sense. It gratifies the soul of whoever is tasting what is spread in front of him. It becomes an avenue for pleasure that is mistaken for genuine emotions that in reality are crooked feelings of disjoint affection and attraction.
That taste. Yes, that sense of taste.

Touch. It is for feeling. Hot and cold, warm and cool. For the soul, touch is for passion. It is for love and care and trust and companionship. Touch is for sharing the feeling of what is great. Something more and beyond pleasure. It is for peace and assurance.
But this touch. It betrays and it hurts. It wounds and it scars.


And in all their seeming perfection,
senses fail.