Perception

On the pinnacle of the world
I stood, one autumn day,
And, though the fiery colors blazed,
All I could see was grey.

Not like before, my eyes did see,
When all was black or white.
My eyes beheld more clearly now
A mingled dark and light.

What good, you say, can be the view
That mixes absolutes?
To know that variables exist --
In that there lies pure truth.