Touch

I am but a bird up high,
I am but no one until I die...
I may not dream of anything,
But I listen to the other birds sing.
People run round in circles day by day,
They all have so much to say,
Although this is very true,
There is nothing left to do...
The people think way too much,
No second thought about a touch,
Touch of two lips in a second,
These are taken for for granted, I reckon.

You cannot take a touch back,
Those two lips cannot get the sack.
When the sea reaches sand,
Then air reaches land...
These are the touches that go unseen,
Noticing these keep us keen...
Keen to understand the world,
Watching as the clouds are twirled.
Who is to say 'I know all'?
Who can say when and how we will fall?