The breeze through the winter branches,
Can be heard as many things.
Is it mother nature's whisper,
Or soul searching for lost dreams?

Perception is an uncanny thing.
It is viewed a thousand ways.
No matter how many eyes perceive it,
It is rarely seen the same way.

Do you see just a sunset,
Or believe your witness to a painting of God?
Do you hear a child's laugh,
And think of a miracle sent from above?

Is the sea just a salty water mass,
Or an always moving mosaic of tides?
Is space just an empty void,
Or an extension of endless skies?

How you see things is up to you.
But no one's perception is wrong.
You can view things all in black and white,
Or try and catch the beauty of it all.

12/17/19