I am one of the fortunate ones
a member of the last cycle of breeding
in the North American summer
and as such I got to fly South
past California – could have stopped there
but by then I had the travel bug
and I, and many of my cohort
carried on to Mexico, not for the heat
Oh no! We settled in the great pine forest
in the mountains, where it was warm enough
as long as we huddled together
to survive the winter
We curtained the trees with our colour
– the reason we are called monarchs
allegedly – orange in honour of
William the Third of England – William of Orange
– so I guess we were named by the Brits
before the proto-Republicans got their act together
and kicked their oppressors out
– anyway, the name stuck
and no one thought fit to change it
even now, when Americans are driven
to hold “No Kings!” parades – we butterflies
– the most numerous in North America
retain our royal soubriquet
and regal we were as we rose
en masse from the Mexican trees
to head North again for the summer
and it’s not just for the food of course
but for the perpetuation of the species
I would like to tell you of my life
as a caterpillar and later a pupa
but as I overheard a young teacher
explaining to his class
what happens inside the pupal case
is so complete a transformation
it’s as if we liquefy and alchemically
transform into a completely new creature
and with it, gone all memories
of that earlier life – of course
– we see them – the caterpillars
our offspring
munching their way through milkweed
but I can’t imagine their lives
ae very interesting – not compared
to we adults, travelling thousands of miles
seeing the sights, hanging out together
and then becoming one of the sights ourselves
– a wonder of nature!
That teacher also said that
we are of the genus Danaus
Which is perhaps the masculine
of Danae upon whose great- great-grand daughter
Zeus came as a shower of gold
– and that is surely a fitting origin
story for the naming of we Monarchs…
© Andrew Wilson, 2025
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, it is Open Link Night and lillian invites us to submit a poem of our own choice and if possible, to join on Saturday to read them out live…
This poem came out of my writing group, where, after reading The Promotion by James Tate, we were prompted to write the compressed life story of a previous life as an animal…
If a butterfly could talk, what tales would it tell? The Monarchs certainly have adventures but who knows what they make of them, if anything, or whether they remember from one day to the next. I like this guess, anyway.
Glad you like it Priscilla, I suspect you are right and that the entire migration is driven by genetically transmitted instinct, but it was most enjoyable to let reality go and to invent this rather worldly voice…
Lovely monarch thoughts
Thanks for dropping by my blog
Much♡love
And thanks for visiting too Gilenna…
A noble and educational telling about the kind of kings all kings should be, harmless adventurers.
How very true, Li, I hadn’t thought of it like that but I heartily agree…
Good to see and hear you at the LIVE event today.
I always learn something from your poems, Andrew, and this one is no exception. I used to collect card from PG Tips packets, my grandmother saved hers for me, and my favourites were the butterflies. I love that you wrote from the Monarch’s perspective, and this line especially: ‘We curtained the trees with our colour’.
Loving the story of the Monarchs here! Looking forward to hearing you read it aloud tomorrow. Nice inclusion of the No Kings reference….and isn’t that the truth? While I have such wonderful memories of our children as infants and toddlers…..and all the incredible changes that happened to their bodies, their minds, their personalities – they have no memory of that period of their lives at all. Similar to the Monarchs’ infancy!
This was a fun journey.
I enjoyed this poem of monarch butterflies and monarchs. We have milkweed planted for them, as many do now.
This is gorgeously rendered, Andrew! I love “it’s as if we liquefy and alchemically transform into a completely new creature and with it, gone all memories of that earlier life.” ❤️❤️
A wonderful blending of poetry, science and history!
Mr. BA has some milkweed in his garden, we get the joy of seeing monarchs sometimes and it makes my heart sing.
Thanks for looking beyond TTOT, Mimi, so many people stay in their own silos when visiting other people’s blogs…
Sadly, Monarchs are not plentiful where I live, thought you might find this interesting:
No, Deschutes County does not get lots of monarch butterflies due to a significant population decline, but it is on their migration path and a crucial area for breeding, so you can see them, especially if you plant native milkweed. The population has dropped drastically, and while habitat restoration efforts are underway, local sightings are far fewer than in the past. Planting native milkweed is the most impactful way for residents to help the monarch population recover.
A few people have said they are planting milkweed, Helen, hope you are one of them 💜
This post is very interesting and informative. The thought that these fragile beings could fly so far and would fly so far is truly awe inspiring.
One time, I harvested a bunch of parsley that turned out to be hosting a little worm that turned out to be a swallowtail caterpillar. We raised the caterpillar and just as you mentioned in your poem, that little thing just morphed out of its old clothes, so to speak, leaving no traces of the latter.
Who doesn’t like a free science project with a bunch of herbs, Imelda… 💜
Common yellow butterflies (along with bees) visit my balcony when my basil flowers. I am always amazed how they reach the seventh floor!
I love the story you wove this verse with political skeins intersecting history and geography alongwith science. Excellent, Andrew.
Thank you Punam – my writing group is ace – it often brings out the best and I am surprised afterwards at what has been written by us all in just 25 minutes or less…
Love the history lesson. And the description here:
“We curtained the trees with our colour”
History AND Biology all wrapped up in Poesie – what’s not to love!