Half ciphered halls of crossing wires,
Black boxes make a city in the flat,
And seeming with some knowledge,
Screwdrivers descend to hoist,
Apartments to the heavens and begin,
A brief construction where all ends the same.

Pattern matching syntax - what a thing
To seamless sit behind the lines,
Yet be such an intricate design,
I grasped the thought before explained,
But hadn't known you were to blame.

Firecrackers surround me,
Bursting in huddles of prayer to the side,
Smoldering with steady heat in friendships scattered across the room,
I see the Lord is at work,
His flame erupts in the midst of an embrace,
And His bride is edified.