A Sense of Balance 19th September 2004                Five senses do not seem to be enough                   Even if five wits are all they serve;                   To see, to hear, to feel, to smell, to taste,                   All constitute that Common Wit of five                   And feed the other four that form our minds.                   Without Memory no sense nor wit                   Could make a sentient being of a brain,                   Since such a mind never could be more                   Than some green screen where images at random                   Flicker aimlessly, and leave no trace                   Of meaning in their phosphorescent wake                   On which Imagination could then work,                   Or Fantasy embellish wonderous spells,                   Or Estimation bring to sound conclusion.                   Both Wits and Senses somehow seem to lack                   Some vital guide to keep each Five in line,                   Some ruling faculty to keep control                   Of each perception that provokes a thought.                   A sense of balance surely is that sixth ,                   Largely unregarded sense, that ought                   To keep the other five well tuned                   And hence develop that all-ruling wit                   That crowns the greatest minds with Wisdom's pearls.                   The lack of these two gifts we daily see                   Displayed in full by our leaders' acts.                   Their senses range across the the restless globe;                   They see each movement and hear every word;                   Their touch is on the buttons, strings and wheels;                   They know all that every instrument can feel                   Yet with no balance lurch from war to war;                   Fall flat upon their faces every time                   They try to cross the tightrope of World Peace;                   Staggering from crisis to disaster                   As they rush with hardened feet into the thorns                   Where each uncertain touch recoils in pain,                   And trample every tender plant that might,                   With Wisdom's care, have grown fragrant blooms                   To bring delight to every Wit and Sense.                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                   Notes :-                   The five wits are not the same as our five senses. The archaic meaning of the word `wit' is `to know' Middle English `witen' hence ` "Yea, God wot all" quoth she.' The Canterbury Tales. The sense remains in modern  English as the word `unwittingly'.                   It is very curious to me how a number of such archaic words retain their prescence in Modern English but only in the negative form - Did you ever hear a young person referred to as a couth youth, though his friend might be very uncouth! Our Five wits are the five medieval mental faculties or qualities :-                   common wit, imagination, fantasy, estimation, and memory. Where estimation has the meaning of judgement and the common wit is our five senses.   David