Projections

Another night has passed, 

And the sun greets me, 

Dragging itself reluctantly 

Up from its bed on the other side 

Of the mountain, 

 Pushing through the clouds and fog 

Of morning — but no, that’s me, projecting 

My own exhaustion and morning fog 

Onto the consistent, cheerful, reliability 

 Of the sun. 

When will I finally grasp 

That everything I see is colored by 

 The lens of my own experience?