A Tribute To Senses

We eulogize our parents, kneel before teachers, Pay obeisance to idols, and praise every benefactor... Write poetry on our love, lyrics to our heartthrob, Elegies in the heartache and play Endymion for a Selene, Making rainbows out of our pale inane existence. But when it comes to thanksgiving, some never figure on our list, And of the few, we are prudent, tongue-tied, and grossly inadequate. Connate with this corpus from conception Oh my senses and sensors! You have made me what I am. But for you I would never have travelled the distances I had, Nor perceived and indulged in this spectacular world! Oh, me! It grieves to leave, yet a new stint is equally tempting. And before I am dragged out of this housing reluctantly And watch dumbly, you being impaled and consigned Let me thank you with all my heart, Dear senses and dear limbs! And as a tribute to you, dear frame, I shall leave behind ... the name!