The Data Mole and the Thinking Trees

At the edge of the town
Where the old wires hum,
Where numbers get tangled
And answers go dumb,

There once was a forest—
Tall, wiggly, and bright,
A forest of Thinking Trees
That helped things go right.

Each tree had a question,
A guess, or a clue,
And together they voted
On what might be true.

No one tree was the boss of the rest—
They listened and argued,
And voting was best.

Now I’m Data Mining Mike,
And long ago there,
I saw those trees waving
Their leaves in the air.

I chopped just one tree—
Just one, not a lot!
I said, “One won’t matter…
I promise it’s not.”

From its fluffy soft leaves
I made Metafur—
A useful new thing!
Warm and clever and sure!
You could make toys and tools
And maps and much more,
And everyone said,

Then POP! from the ground
Came a small little guy—
White hat, pink nose,
And a cute as pie.

“I’m the Data Mole,”
He said, tapping the ground.
“I speak for the trees
That help answers be found.

“These trees work together,
They talk and they vote.
If you take too many,
The answers turn broke.”

I laughed and I smiled.
“Don’t worry!” I said.
“I’ll make more Metafur instead!”

Soon I wanted more—
More toys, more fame!

So I chopped more trees
And grew faster than a train.

I left just a few.
“They’re plenty,” I said.
“They don’t need their friends
To work in their heads.”

But the answers got wobbly.
The guesses went wrong.
The Thinking Trees whispered,
“Something’s not strong…”

Back came the Data Mole,
Voice softer this time:

“When trees vote together,
They fix their own rhyme.
But when there are fewer,
The voting gets weak—
One loud wrong guess
Starts to sound ‘right’ when it speaks.”

I didn’t listen.

I chopped till one tree
Stood alone in the land.

It tried its best—
But without its friends,

it couldn’t understand.

Then CRACK.
Down it fell.
No trees left at all.
No good answers.
No Metafur.
No forest to call.

The Data Mole said nothing.
He just looked at me sad.
Then floated away
Like a dream that you had.

All he left on the ground
Was a tiny random seed
With one little word
That said:

UNLESS

Years later,
You came along, Gator, my friend.
And now I know what that word meant.

Unless you care.
Unless you share.
Unless you let many trees
Think together and dare. 

So here—take this seed.
It’s the last one I know.
Plant it indeed.

Let lots of trees grow.

Because the best answers
Don’t come from a cloud—
They come from a forest,

The wisdom of the crowd.

The end.

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