If you peer through stained glass windows,
The world you'll see will be a blur,
A mess of blue and yellow problems
That glare upon you as you go.
Sometimes it's nice to know that somewhere,
Enticed within this trap of color,
There is a gleam of pure logic,
A glimpse of joy that you discover.
So when you feel that, trapped in hues,
You can't escape and can't forget,
And every impulse of contentment
Has left you bare with regret,
What you must do is strain by color
Each one that stares back at you,
And with each tint you will discover
The things you once could not construe.
Ann Ostrovsky
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