1. Microscopy
Life unfolds
silent in space
small as the pupil of an eye
I eavesdrop chemical language,
tangled helices
I cannot translate.
among these threads
our grandmother’s recipes;
love and bread,
herbs that bring life
mixed with honey
& the yolk of an egg.
Forgotten craft manifest only
in the way your palms open.
2. In Vitro
Here everything
is memorized
I know & can number
every facet of bone
each articulation
the brain I study
in anatomy lab
simply architecture
strangely heavy
in my hands;
cerebral ridges
curving inward in subtle patterns,
thoughtprints & dreams
erased moments
after the heart stops.
3. In Vivo
Faceup
on a hillside
you close your book, ask
where sky begins
why it does not hold us flat
I say we breathe it
(the threads uncoil)
I want to know where you begin (magic)
to touch core
(a space smaller)
a woman of concrete faith
like Thomas
I am not satisfied
with words:
silent knowing
beyond suggestion of eyes,
deeper than smiles,
past yes
my hands
deep in your body
(eternal gesture)
believe
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Reblogged this on Susan Daniels Poetry and commented:
Another oldie–believe this one goes back to the late 80s.
your fascination with the molecular and our origins in minute particles spun and held by threads we cannot fathom dates real back!
Yes, it does! I honestly do not know how molecular and cellular biologists walk around without spouting poetry constantly. I guess even then I was not satisfied with writing about roses, and wanted to get a bit “deeper.” Poetry in the anatomy lab and under microscopy…
🙂
You’re funny..I think you are the exception rather than the rule for those in love with cells and molecules. You are a curious romantic..
Audra, thank you. Hmm. Perhaps you are right–I think more scientists should be poets, and more poets scientists. I have said before Einstein was a poet in a lab coat. And, yes–I am a curious, incurable romantic hidden beneath a very practical exterior; however, here in blog-land, you guys see the romantic interior from the poetry and none of the practical me, and I like it. It is a curious intimacy we all share here.
ahh yes well said. The inside comes flowing out– a little too easily at times and it is all a bit ageless after a certain point, which I find facinating
yes, yes, exactly.