The Lantern of Unwritten Tomorrows

Beneath the baobab’s ancient sigh,  

where shadows stretch and whispers lie,  

a spark is born—not gold, nor flame,  

but something quieter, without a name.  

It is the light that does not blaze,  

nor scorch the earth with blinding rays.  

It is the glow of a thousand hands,  

unfolding maps of uncharted lands.