From a long line of Eves this matriarchal organelle
occupies its own space in the cytoplasm of each cell.

There is no Minotaur at the middle of its membranous
labyrinth only a maze of energy powerhouses.

Once an independent microbe, it has wormed it way
into a significant symbiont, not just advisor but a gal Friday.

A store house for calcium when the pH needs adjustment
the furnace that drives the Krebs cycle around its sugary acid orbit

transforming chocolate cupcakes into more practical carbon
the element that functions without confines of season or reason.

Its suitcase is stuffed full of valuable antiques: a lamp of know-how
a jewelry box full of power tools, a manuscript that would allow

its grandmother clock to program and regulate cellular death
for like a perpetual motion machine, it never stops nor takes a breath.

Busy as a swarm or hive of molecular bees, it has become
the little engine that could, as “in the background it hummed.”