Perception

A world without sight
       Without the color, the movement
       That brings it to life
Would be a world that was flat,
       And dry
To be unable to see
       Every plant, every animal
       The slightest of movements
       That hints of a secret to be found
To hear
       Every rustling leaf and fluttering feather
       The soft sounds of the wild.
To smell
       Wild flowers and grass drying in the sun
       Or even the earthy scent of manure.
And to feel
       Damp earth beneath your feet
       Or the subtle brush of fur on skin
To lose even one sense
       An unbearable tear
       In the matrix of perception.