How often
I wonder
do I see the world
distorted by the lens of my past
in colors of jade
edges dulled
contrast fuzzy
like looking through
a dusty kaleidoscope
my mind fitting the broken pieces
in ways that suit
interpretation
or expectation
Too often
I would guess
Too often
I close my eyes
and see from within
my vain attempts
to correlate the data of my past
with cloudy visions of the future
based on incomplete analysis of the present
influenced by experience
interpreted through illusion
borne from misunderstanding
and think to myself
“No wonder I stumble”
