5d
The light, a fractured prism, paints a wall,
But what hues dance there, is not for all.
My eyes, a filter, stained by memory's trace,
See crimson where another finds a gentle space.
The scent of rain, to me, a promise kept,
To you, a ghost of tears, a sorrow wept.
The mountain's peak, a triumph, sharp and bold,
To those below, a story yet untold.
The river's flow, a journey, smooth and grand,
To those it floods, a vengeful, grasping hand.
A whispered word, a lover's softest plea,
To jealous ears, a sharp conspiracy.
The canvas vast, of moments spun and frayed,
Each stroke of sense, a different truth displayed.
The taste of wine, a vintage, rich and deep,
To bitter tongues, a poison they will keep.
The touch of skin, a comfort, warm and true,
To those betrayed, a wound they can't undo.
The rustling leaves, a symphony of sound,
To anxious hearts, a threat on hallowed ground.
The city's hum, a vibrant, pulsing beat,
To weary souls, a suffocating heat.
The silent stare, a gaze of pure intent,
To guilty minds, a judgment heaven-sent.
The world unfolds, a tapestry of sight,
Each thread a truth, held in a different light.
Beliefs and values, woven, tight and deep,
Shape how we see, the secrets we will keep.
A half-full glass, a beacon, shining bright,
A half-empty void, consumed by endless night.
The bridge we build, between our separate shores,
Demands a language, that forever explores.
No single map, can chart the human heart,
Each landscape shifts, and tears the world apart.
And so we ask, and listen, and explain,
To find the common ground, to ease the pain.
The silent spaces, where our visions clash,
Require the gentle touch, of understanding's flash.
To share the stories, that our senses weave,
To bridge the gaps, that time can never leave.
To build a world, where empathy can thrive,
Where different eyes, can learn to keep alive.
And in the quiet moments, when we’re alone,
We ponder the foundations, we’ve always known.
We seek the answers, in each other’s gaze,
To navigate the labyrinth, of life’s complex maze.
Though we look at things from a glass half full or half empty – perhaps the question should be - is there a glass?
But what hues dance there, is not for all.
My eyes, a filter, stained by memory's trace,
See crimson where another finds a gentle space.
The scent of rain, to me, a promise kept,
To you, a ghost of tears, a sorrow wept.
The mountain's peak, a triumph, sharp and bold,
To those below, a story yet untold.
The river's flow, a journey, smooth and grand,
To those it floods, a vengeful, grasping hand.
A whispered word, a lover's softest plea,
To jealous ears, a sharp conspiracy.
The canvas vast, of moments spun and frayed,
Each stroke of sense, a different truth displayed.
The taste of wine, a vintage, rich and deep,
To bitter tongues, a poison they will keep.
The touch of skin, a comfort, warm and true,
To those betrayed, a wound they can't undo.
The rustling leaves, a symphony of sound,
To anxious hearts, a threat on hallowed ground.
The city's hum, a vibrant, pulsing beat,
To weary souls, a suffocating heat.
The silent stare, a gaze of pure intent,
To guilty minds, a judgment heaven-sent.
The world unfolds, a tapestry of sight,
Each thread a truth, held in a different light.
Beliefs and values, woven, tight and deep,
Shape how we see, the secrets we will keep.
A half-full glass, a beacon, shining bright,
A half-empty void, consumed by endless night.
The bridge we build, between our separate shores,
Demands a language, that forever explores.
No single map, can chart the human heart,
Each landscape shifts, and tears the world apart.
And so we ask, and listen, and explain,
To find the common ground, to ease the pain.
The silent spaces, where our visions clash,
Require the gentle touch, of understanding's flash.
To share the stories, that our senses weave,
To bridge the gaps, that time can never leave.
To build a world, where empathy can thrive,
Where different eyes, can learn to keep alive.
And in the quiet moments, when we’re alone,
We ponder the foundations, we’ve always known.
We seek the answers, in each other’s gaze,
To navigate the labyrinth, of life’s complex maze.
Though we look at things from a glass half full or half empty – perhaps the question should be - is there a glass?
Author's note:
I remember a conversation years ago, where I had acquaintances - uber-nerds that all attended undergrad studies. They started a discussion to egg the high school-educated Marine into a debate - whether to belittle me or embarrass me. And the quantum state postulate of Schrödinger's cat was the subject. Though it is a physics question, it rang of a psychology question I had once concerning Perception versus Perspective - and I remember being asked to leave by my professor after disrupting the class with my answer in the form of the question in the poem.
I posed the same question to the uber-nerds, and it shut them up.
Is there a box, Is there a cat? Is there a glass??? prove it..... Perception vs. Perspective
I remember a conversation years ago, where I had acquaintances - uber-nerds that all attended undergrad studies. They started a discussion to egg the high school-educated Marine into a debate - whether to belittle me or embarrass me. And the quantum state postulate of Schrödinger's cat was the subject. Though it is a physics question, it rang of a psychology question I had once concerning Perception versus Perspective - and I remember being asked to leave by my professor after disrupting the class with my answer in the form of the question in the poem.
I posed the same question to the uber-nerds, and it shut them up.
Is there a box, Is there a cat? Is there a glass??? prove it..... Perception vs. Perspective
(58/I don't know)
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