A Single Spark

A neuron sits, small and unassuming,  

a quiet ember in a vast network,  

its roots sprawling like a treetop map,  

hungry tendrils collecting whispers of the world.  

It does not wait for its siblings’ chorus,  

does not ask permission to make sense  

of shadowed ears and wagging tails,  

to sort fur into categories of bark or purr.  

This single sentinel holds its ground,  

wielding electricity like a painter's brush,  

drawing lines between the prowling feline  

and the loyal curve of a dog's grin.  

Once thought to need a village to decide,  

it turns out one neuron can be enough—  

a lone detective scanning a forest of stimuli,  

its tree like branches brimming with knowing.  

There is brilliance in its independence,  

a reminder that within the smallest pieces,  

in the unseen folds of the human brain,  

entire worlds of wisdom quietly bloom.