Departure

Be it sight, sound, smell, or touch There's something inside that we need so much The sight of a touch or the scent of a sound Or the strength of an oak with roots deep in the ground The wonder of flowers to be covered and then to burst up Through tarmac to the sun again Or to fly to the sun without burning a wing To lie in a meadow and hear the gra*s sing To have all these things in our memory's hoard And to use them to help us to find