You wake from your slumber. You're thirsty and sweating.
You're stiff in the spine and the hips as you hobble
To fill up your belly with water to placate
The jailor who hijacks your dreams of what? Riches?
Of love? You're an idiot, hoping that nothing
Will change, but it does! And your cradle, your bedroom
Can't save you from gnashing your teeth with the knowledge
Of withering. Sleep is no refuge, nor willful
Forgetting the rescue you crave. In the flushing
Of blood, in the flow of the cells—in the circuit
Of life—you are pregnant with microbes, the mother
Of fragments of mystery. Symbiotes lurking
The chambers of colons, of sinus, of eyelash
Are seeking a balance, by coming together
In Eden inside you; be fearless, not fearful—
Connect to the cosmos of flesh: you will perish.
“The US Human Microbiome Project has sequenced the genomes of 178 members of the community of microbes that calls the human body home.”
– Heidi Ledford, Nature.com, May 20, 2010
http://www.nature.com/news/2010/100520/full/news.2010.254.html?s=news_rss
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