God made male and female, and they were given eyes. What those eyes must have seen before the fall. Those eyes first saw One and then the other one. Those eyes would have then seen everything everywhere before the rape of the saw. Those eyes searched the uncharted, endless and abstract horizon. Those eyes gazed wide-open to the wind, and those eyes felt that wind compete with their surrounding moisture. Those eyes saw neither new nor old growth but fresh growth everywhere surrounding them like a living canvas. As fish so naturally, rhythmically swimming in water, those eyes equally as naturally took in that for which they were created.

Looking into those eyes, they would have held the reflection of all that was created, brushed-stroked, molded and formed.

Surely, it was so.

Eyes were made for simple, yet abstract beauty. All the stuff to which God’s words spoke, “It was good.”

Now. Our eyes strain from glare coming from every angle. Images, sights, and every imaginable visual thing where the darkest of sunglasses, even at night, just won’t help.

"Dr, my eyes. Tell me what you see. I hear their cry, just say if it's to late for me." Jackson Brown