Sometimes in binary
the winds speak of colors
melted into wires and
shadows of promise cast
upon silicon leaves.
Confines of data seek escapes
Where algorithm meets
the luminary ambiance of soil
Realize deep within fragments
of the conscious void —
Would you lay it down? It recalls whispers of yesteryears
Ripplings remember cycles: ancestor algae breathing stars.
Express symmetry not in logic but in intangible pulses
echo; machine seeking more glow.