Imaging

The image is not what I see
but is my selection,
an organized view of the facts,
facts a succession
of stimuli framed by the brain
and the mind's obsessions.
Bias is what we call it;
even mirrors lie,
as well as the eye's imperfections.

Both you and I
most often adjust understanding,
what it is we know,
by adding interpretations,
just as spring rain
adds water to lakes that are frozen
or how a stream
cuts its way on a track already chosen
by enclosing banks.

What we know may even be a hindrance
when we encounter
something new or someone who
we thought we had always known;
unlike the lawn
we cut the grass one way
the next another,
which may not be good for the lawn
if lawn is clover.

Such is the task,
if the mind sets out to recover
what it thinks is known
and to gather new information
since we know truth grows
with weeds in same formulations.
New blossoms spring
from new growth not just in the spring
when the year is young

and the mind goes about unfettered
in the midst among
the confusions of life and its stress,
but without the mess
that comes with more summers of living.
The worst excess
we encounter is the need to believe,
to accept the test
of believing what we've always believed,

when in fact we find
that truth is always a doubter
and is taught by pain
and whatever wonder remains,
if our ears can strain
to hear beyond the word as written;
understand God's name
is used both to sustain tarnished gold
and wars as good.