Sprouting from a loamy soil
a small green leaf does toil
Working its way above the earth
Stretching out, to shake off dirt
Upon arrival, does the Sun
grant it Life, it has begun
Per single word, upon a page
it's gift to Man, belies its age
It bleeds upon parchment white
and dances in the pale moon light
as the world begins to mellow
so dies the parchment, turns to yellow
Here it comes, this digital age
where mathematical genius is Mage
Electricity feeds upon our brains
Riding currents with glittered reigns
Gifting of our temporal lobe
Emotions waiting to implode
Hark, the buzz of midnight writ
behind glass screens, magically lit
are words that are concretely bound
in empty ether, rooting for ground
Soothing are the songs of Soul
that find they're way from a hole
If nothing ever comes, but Hope
Our words are but a slippery *****