We just remember facts and actions,
To which our life presented us,
There are, amidst them, and inventions,
That kindly visit us sometimes.

But once we see a day, the April's,
We hear laughter, catch a sight….
Reminiscences of our senses! -
They're the inciters of our heart

That force it to palpate for hours,
Or promptly fly up to the skies,
And they're saved not by thoughts of ours,
But by our hands and lips and eyes.