“…the sea is all around us…”

T.S. Elliot

Gilt-edge rays of sunlight pierce spumes of whitecaps

illuminating a flotilla of opalescent jellyfish

suspended under blue-green algae, maiden hair and winged kelp.

They float along a gyre of Gulf Stream.

A tug of war between moon and sun allows the earth to breathe,

tides fall and rise sweeping globular medusa umbrellas

to and from shore.

Their strong muscular pulsations of gelatinous mass,

opaque as a windowpane make them look like

outer space invaders.

But they mind their own business with four mouths to feed,

gorging on planktonic soup and diatoms

so tiny in their eerie glow of luminescence the naked eye can’t see.

Their radial symmetry of shades mauve and pink

and their rhythmic bounce resemble ethereal dancers

undulating in slow-motion, a belly-dance for an audience

of purple sea urchins, periwinkles and gold star tunicates

who must be cheering them on with ululating cries of joy

that can’t be heard.

Lion mane male jellyfish with pink gonads

are delighted to be invited to join the underwater dance.