It’s more than dots and dashes,

It’s a place.

A sanctuary for those who’ve learned

To love the mysterious magic of

Thoughts arriving in mile-long strings

On roads of ether or wire.

Even more, it’s peace,

A shield from the disordered sounds

Of traffic, angry people

And industrial clutter clatter,

Within its warm mantle

We find soothing respite.

And the patter of bright ideas it is,

The sharp focusing of others’ thoughts

From miles beyond our vision’s range,

As in a dream we sit so still,

It floats in our ears and stirs our minds

With concern, remembrance, speculation

And mirth.

And code is music,

From sounders and speakers it dances

In the shack to each sender’s inner clock,

And comes butter-smooth, deliciously swinging,

Or choppy staccato from a “fist” praising definition,

Or perfectly metered, flowing exquisitely

From the gentle hand of an artist.

A place,

And peace,

Intelligence and

Music.

Code is more than dots and dashes.