The Luminous Breath

A single point, child of the weave
Digital, with its precise confine.
It has no roots, nor memory to receive,
But a soul of light that grows divine.

It seeks no glory, asks for no rest,
Its reason is the code that shines through.
It shifts and ignites, quickly possessed,
Orchestrating an image brand new.

Millions its brothers, equal and rare,
Trace unseen pathways in the air.
We cannot see their silent true game,
But only the effect, the whole illusion’s claim.