Limited Perception

I formed papers the shape of mountains:

My vision of mountains, relatively.

For all i know, a mountain is not a plane.

I knew little about them, and seen only some of them.

My footsteps were muffled as I walked through the pile of leaves.

They were all fresh, the remains was so fresh.

My head was turned.

I only saw a quarter of it.

I could not make out of its color, or its texture.

There was only water, splashing, pouring.

Sprinkling through the rocks, reverberating.

And branches breaking of from trunks of trees.

I heard; perceived a little.

Such limited perception of things bothers me.

A sage would probably tell me though:

A fuller view would probably be bliss or the edge of a cliff.