You know how jellies are.

Those gummy boneless bodies

without any eyes, not even

a brain, carried along

with the tide, who knows why

or if they have a purpose.


Think what it must be like.

How might they know where they are

when they barely distinguish

light, or that it’s night or that

the water is warm?  We see them

washing ashore.


What part can they play

in the scheme of things

if all they do is float?

How have they lasted

these millions of years?

It can’t be easy, drifting along. 

*   *   *

Aurelia — Photos at Cape Cod Museum of Natural History by Mary O’Connor © 2017. Poem, Jellies, from Dreams of a Wingless Child, Mary O’Connor, Wheatmark, Tuscon, AZ © 2007

5 thoughts on “Jellies

  1. When I look into a mirror I see myself
    Made of atoms, organized into systems
    And it occurs to me,
    It is this awareness that is me.

    From Are Atoms Conscious by KC


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