The Verdant Thread

From the red clay of a Founder’s farm, Where Washington sowed the seed, It rose to shield the hull from harm And serve a nation’s need. No gold or silver in the soil Could match the strength it gave to toil; A resilient, reaching, fibrous vine, Where utility and grace entwine.

But now the fiber finds a “code,” Beyond the rope and sail, To ease the heavy, human load Where synthetic efforts fail. Antimicrobial and clean, A lattice woven, tough and lean, To mend the break and stitch the tear— A ghost of life within the air.

It mimics well the body’s frame, Organic, pure, and deep, An ancient plant with a modern name, A promise it can keep. From the furrowed field to the sterile light, It weaves a future, bold and bright; The humble stalk, the surgeon’s hand, The strongest spirit in the land.