It’s interesting, don’t you think
how some people can pick up a book
and get so lost in the pages
that hours pass without them noticing
while others
get stuck on the first lines, trying to concentrate
but re-reading the words over and over again
without any meaning seeping in?
How minds can differ, wired so similarly
yet ultimately different.
Is your red really the same as mine?
And why, when you say Wednesday, do I think green?
If we describe the same person,
why do two different images spring up?
Do we see different things,
or is it our focus
that’s different?
Your world is my world…
at least, I think it is.
Treeshallow Musings 