Poetry for Engineers: Of Code and Shortleaf Pine

I step into the warm moist air
among the columns of the pines,
their net of twigs and roots
complex as any lines of code.

The trees purify and anchor.
Their branches balance my restlessness.

Their calling is to be present,
mine to develop apps. Our tasks
verge toward a common logic:
living filaments of root, of interface.

​I step into the warm moist airamong the columns of the pines,their net of twigs and rootscomplex as any lines of code.The trees purify and anchor.Their branches balance my restlessness.Their calling is to be present,mine to develop apps. Our tasksverge toward a common logic:living filaments of root, of interface.