Riddle

I am a dark well.
A clear spring.
A running river.
A broad sea.
I am a tree
on the forest floor.
The red crumbling
of heart wood.
The new bud,
swollen with hope,
and the bursting
flower or leaf.
I am the silence
that follows the call
of a bluejay or a goose.
The noisy traffic beside the forest.
The stuttering of new leaves
in the first wind.
I am fallen words.
I am something new.
I am older than myself.
I am sleep in its solitude.