Sense

I wake up to the silence,
To see, to smell, to hear;To sense.
The dry of the leaves rustle,
The calls of the birds ring.
A beam of sun pierces the thickness
To light a new born leaf.
The river waits, bare and naked,
To be dressed by the flowing waters.
The dragonflies buzz past me,
Humming the secrets of their days.
Greens bloom on the barren rocks,
The earth feeds the starved.
Life is what i sense, despite the lonesome quiet.