‘S’ for Sensitivity
I am the thought behind the blind man's walking stick,
comforting kiss on the forehead of a distressed child
I am the hand that holds my grandfather's hand,
and I can be felt in a smile that knows no discrimination.
I am an act of kindness,
From a lover or a stranger alike.
I conform myself within the ocean of "good".
I am the careful hop over a sleeping dog's tail,
and the vessel that quenches the thirst of birds.
I live in the flower unplucked,
and flow through the branches of trees uncut.
I ring in the laughter of skin that is stroked,
and I chime through the voice that announces death.
I am born with the authority to mind the tongue,
but I am torn amidst a war.
I am not empathy, only the subtle half.
I lurk in the corners of a battlefield,
afraid to reveal myself.
I am shy, so humanity perceives me covert,
but I creep into modest actions.
I echo through the kind words unsaid,
and gradually humanity distances itself from me.