Suppose the scene around us is suffused
With things unseen by faculties unused.
They’re there: those Little People, Fairies, Elves,
Quite visible to some, but not ourselves.
How is it that we cannot see such things?
Is there a mental attitude that brings
Them into view, so if I change my mind,
Attending differently, I won’t be blind?
How much is expectation part of sight,
So only what I know I see aright?
We simply see what we’re prepared to see,
And what we don’t believe in cannot be.
Yet in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear.