With much joy the grand old yeast said to her daughter,
“Look above my little child,
see those even stars that toil at night till oblivion,
quietly twinkling now and often,
with a heart of its own;
Responding humbly to the earthly stimuli
with its incessant winks;”
A remarkable similarity indeed to our microscopic world;
regarde, regarde mon petit levure,
those buds and necks, all the same like us.
No sooner had the daughter held her neck up,
than the ever-dutiful mother employed her
nano pores and channels to transport molecules and memories,
and mitochondrial DNA too, much too swiftly;
A split-second after, the bud surface
sealed tight and the motherly constituents engulfed.
Lest the lesser mortals shall subject these
marvelous pearls to unimaginable torments,
that shalt rip their cytoplasm miles apart.
And so the yeasts and the binary stars developed a bond
very special till this very day.
And so, the daughter cells learned to suckle from their mother buds
For many years to come…
(This poem was written as a homage to the binary stars
which has an uncanny resemblance to yeast.)