Photosynthesis

The human eye, Like a tree, Has roots.

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Was it the roots that reached out first to the eye, knowing it was the portal?

Is the eye the budded flower? Parasol and solar sail. Take us away.

Is the receiver of light the root of the light itself? Roots all the way down.

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We marvel at the trees, especially as dawn's lavender and baby blue watercolor mountain sky offers them gentle relief. What color are our eyes gazing upon that scene?!

My soul is spirit's root and my being is each color as it comes. What a gift to be a painting that shepherds itself.

White light in the eyes is no responsibility to save the world, Only to bear witness to it and cherish it. There is no urgency if no where else to be but here with.

The speed of light is ubiquitous love. The eye knows this. It doesn't chase the light to save the roots — it's just a messenger. The trees don't detach from earth to get closer to the sun. They just twist and face and position themselves to receive.

Synthesis: "early 17th century: via Latin from Greek sunthesis, from suntithenai 'place together'."