Sunlight
I turn my face from the bank of computers that neatly line the smooth black counter. Sunlight pours through the window, carefully kept out by a thick layer of glass that wouldn't open, even if I tried. Outside the world is green, stretching and waking in the morning sun. A youthful tree presses its fingertips against the glass as it grows. The layers of curling leaves paint shadows on each other, alternating between brilliant yellows and cooler, deeper shades of green. I study each leaf, the veins tracing through the fragile flesh, creating a webbing to catch the abundant light. The life giving force is gathered in open palms, feeding and nurturing.