Digital Flute Dreams

Verse 1 The circuit breathes in steady hums Beneath the floor of silicon sand Where copper rivers twist and run Through the palms of a static hand. I press a key of polished glass To wake the ghost inside the wire A silver breath begins to pass Through a hollowed, electric spire. Chorus In the glow of a flickering screen We’re weaving digital flute dreams A melody of bits and light To pierce the simulated night. No wooden reed, no hollow bone Just a pulse in a binary tone Rising up from the motherboard One perfect, synthesized chord. Verse 2 The reverb trails in geometric lines Across a sky of velvet grid Where every echo clearly defines The secrets that the signal hid. It isn’t air that makes the sound But a stream of math and coded fire Lifting us off the heavy ground On a current of golden wire. Bridge Data cascades like a mountain stream Cold and crisp in a sequence flow The ghost of the wind is part of the scheme Wherever the frequencies go. 0 to 1, then back to the breath A song that survives its own fading. Outro Drifting on a square-wave breeze Through the binary forest trees Softly now, the system sighs As the digital flute dream dies. (Fading into static...) High, thin whistle of the sine wave.