Perception is a delicacy

Perception is a delicacy
When the world sees the rain
I see a storm.
When the world sees the rain
I see a monsoon.
The sight breathes the air differently
Proximity and insight.
The taste on the tongue of life
Nothing to speak of..
But a box.
The world grows silent to define.
A new kind of line,
Perception is a delicacy.
World sees a broken, nearly useless bag.
I see a friend who has carried my burdens.
Grown thin of stitch by giving.
Compadre touching my back,
Patting me on with a subtle insistence.
A weight to carry that has brought more life along.
It is not an old and useless bag.
.. It is my bag.
The impersonal definition,
The world does not see you as I do.
The hot monsoon
The raucous winds and chill of a storm
More than rain to me..
The temperature, the mood, the texture
All hit the skin and blend something specific inside..
The world doesn’t see it.
Perception is a personal delicacy.

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