Mosaic

we all linger near
that window
head firmly in
the air
faced pressed
against the glass

the knowledge reflected
as pretty colors
glass stained and
tricking us into thinking
we've learned the rainbow

its the fractions of the factions
cut pieces into actions
that temper the image
weld its picture together
ironclad

we build our frame
among the flame
of passionate progress
trapping ourselves
in colored glass

and all we get
is the reflection
a light in the dark
a shadow of the light
prismatic amidst chrome

though we tread upon mosaics
we gaze upon our window
always and forever
missing the big picture