Light arrives, silent wave,
No sound, no hue, no name to crave.
dances in a language raw
code of pulse, a push, a law.
It strikes your eye, wavelength born,
But not yet red, nor dusk, nor dawn.
Just energy, measured glide,
Until mind lets color slide.
red is not a thing we find
It's painted in your watching mind.
No crimson bleeds from falling leaves,
Until brain begins to weave.
world is gray before gleam
Of thought completes vivid dream.
What you see is what you make,
fiction real for seeing’s sake.
So when you look at sky or stone,
Recall light is not alone.
Your brain, brushing artist, shapes air
Invents color that isn’t there.
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