Wired Like Fire

I love the things that burn yet do not break.

A storm, wild and reckless,

raging across the sky with no need to be tamed.

A candle, flickering but firm,

holding fire in the cradle of wax and wick.

They are forces of danger,

yet they keep us warm,

make us still, remind us we’re alive.

I see the same in machines:

in the quiet hum of a system waking,

in the flicker of processes beneath the glass.

Code, like thought, loops and branches,

processing the unseen,

rebuilding, resetting, becoming more.

Is that so different from the mind?

From the thoughts we patch and rewrite,

the feelings we contain and reconfigure?

Life unfolds in layers.

Storms of emotion,

flames of love and fury,

and behind it all,

the quiet scripts that guide our choices.

We reboot. We evolve.

We crash and heal,

like code rewritten in the dark.

There is beauty in the architecture of it all.

The human mind,

the digital brain,

the natural world.

All are systems of power and fragility,

capable of creation or collapse.

We are not so different:

the machine, the storm, the flame, the soul.

Each is a vessel of force,

each runs hot with intent and inertia.

We are all engines of change,

wired differently, but reaching for the same thing: 

understanding, balance, wholeness.