Tiny travelers, membrane-bound, Through cells they weave, both lost and found. With unseen cargo in their core, They journey wide, from shore to shore.
Proteins, lipids, strands of code, In every vesicle bestowed, A message held, so small and slight, Yet potent as a star’s first light.
Released in silence, endocytosed, They fuse with membranes, then enclosed. Once thought as mere discarded scrap, They chart new courses on their map.
Not waste but whispers, finely spun, They spark new life, a course begun, Immune alarms, and wounds they seal, With power vast, they shift and heal.
In sickness too, they play their part, In cancer’s dark, malignant art. Yet doctors hope to bend their way, To heal, to cure, to break decay.
Now studied close, these mystic ships, In labs they pass from pipettes’ tips. Therapeutic agents wrapped in grace, Targeted to the body’s place.
Oh, exosomes, so small, unseen, Yet in you lies a world between— A bridge that spans from cell to cell, Where secrets of the body dwell.
