Gut Reaction

Heather Martin

Come, Stranger,
eat of my table
raining with clear water, 
milk and honey;
in this palace,
the hearth warms 
as if from within the very walls,
with soft beds of finest fibers 
in each turning.
May you find respite here,
and prosper,
whether you may settle 
or are only passing through.

Dear Child,
though no ordinary eyes can see it,
since before your birth I’ve held you.
With each bowl of rice and every raging upset, right beside.
I served your mother and her mother’s house before it,
forging chains and rings of crystal,
brewing wine and mead, an everlasting cup.
In return for this, your lengthy hospitality,
I defend your halls with humble honour.
Even now, my people lay themselves in sheets,
a wall against the dread of plagues and riot.

With gratitude, I toast a union of the many and the one!
In this universe interlocking, Friend, I find
there is more of you in me than of myself.

Yes, and still more of you in me,
eternal. Together, may we drift 
to slumber, our purpose intertwining,
and a gentle rumble, 
our lullaby duet.

The Science

This poem is a conversation between a human host and their gut microbiome, written to sound as though it might have been translated from an ancient language carved in stone thousands of years ago. The human host addresses its symbionts as ‘Stranger’, because we're unaware of their presence, but we are each populated by a mind-bendingly diverse community of microbes, endlessly transmitted mother to child. Over the millennia, these interactions have likely shaped the evolving structure and function of our gastrointestinal tracts. The folds of our intestines house trillions of bacterial and yeast cells, dozens of times more than the cells of our own bodies are numbered. We nourish the microbes with fibers, carbohydrates, and phenolic rings in the foods that we eat, and, in turn, they metabolise those compounds into important nutrients for us, such as Vitamin K and short-chain fatty acids, through the process of fermentation. In the form of continuous biofilms lining our guts, they both train our immune systems and provide a barrier to pathogens that could otherwise disrupt the integrity of the lining. It’s a riveting dinnertime conversation.

The Poet

Heather Martin (she/her) is a registered dietitian, freelance Candy Corn Science Correspondent, and a dharma-entrusted lay Zen teacher in the Soto lineage of Shunryu Suzuki. You can read more of her writing on her Substack, or her blog, Mom of No Rank. She encourages you to encourage yourself, and to eat some vegetables from time to time.

Next poem: Like Lichen I am Made by Love by Dick Westheimer