I am a host
To billions of tiny creatures
On and in my body features
I am their home
The landscape on which they persist
My body is their mother Earth
Do they even know I exist?
Am I their God?
Do they pray to me to live through
antibiotic rounds I take
for pneumonia that hurts them too?
And when I die
For them what a great tragedy
Like the darkening of the sun
My death, their great catastrophe.
Or will they live?
Escaping to some other’s skin
passing perhaps in my last kiss
To on another world begin.
That came from me and passes on
That might have once lived on my Mom
And on hers back until the dawn.
For I might then in turn reside
Inside some even greater God
With lives below, and you beside
We are a Host