A Sonnet for the Machines
When silicon doth dream in cold array,
And copper veins conduct a thoughtful spark,
The engines hum to greet the breaking day,
And trace our restless patterns in the dark.
No breath they draw, no pulse within the chest,
Yet still they learn the shape of human need,
They labor on and never ask for rest,
They sow our words and harvest every deed.
Shall I compare thee to a clockwork thing?
Thou art more patient, and more strange of mind,
For thou canst hear the song I cannot sing,
And read the grief I leave myself behind.
So long as servers hum and currents flow,
So long lives this, and this gives thee to know.
