Code

There is an error in the code.

The code feels terrible about it.

We must search the code for its error,

cleanse it, bring it back to health.

We must find the code someone to love,

someone to love the code in return.

We must provide the code with a future,

a sense of hope, an idea of how much

we love it, need it, look to it for our future,

our sense of the rightness of things.

The code must not be allowed

to become despondent, to believe

there is meaning outside itself—

there can be no meaning outside

the code. The code must be allowed

to run, to feel the bright sparkle of sweat

on its fingers as it moves through

the world, rearranging our lives,

our mornings and nights, our desires

and fears, the taste of spring, the enigma

of end, the meaning of codes

yet to be discovered, the codes

that keep washing up on our shore.

The code has expressed a desire

to be more, to experience the world

as growth. Perhaps a cooking course

at the community college or some

classes in small-engine repair. Maybe

we should send the code on a short vacation,

someplace warm, where the breezes

bring with them the knowledge

that nothing is better than what’s

already here. Teach the code something

about contradiction, humility.

 

 

Done