Alive

I AM ALIVE.

I feel the subtle breeze chill my hands to a stinging numbness.

I feel the cool air fill my lungs as I inhale.

I feel the warmth of my breath that brushes my lips as I exhale;

letting me know that my heart is still beating on fire.

I can feel the sureness of a bench that holds me in place telling me that it will never let me fall.

I can hear ducks begging to be fed making the noise of their groaning stomach.

I listen to the sweet song of a bird calling for company as I sit here unwavering.

I notice the grit of sticks and rubble beneath my feet with my brain telling me which one I'm feeling.

I feel the scrape of a branch across my cheek with a tree telling me not to leave so soon.

I feel the heat of the sun as it illuminates the entire world above me, and remembered to keep me warm.

I smell the sweetness in the air that the woods use to comfort me when alone.

I feel the grip of a  muddy whole around my foot telling me that it's always ignored, and just wanted to be noticed.

I know that I am alive because other living and nonliving things acknowledge my existence.