Wild Moment: James Oglethorpe
'Untested monarchs rise from a forest of green and white...' A poem celebrating North America's amazing migrating butterfly - the monarch
Dominion
Blue sun is sweet,
and so too is buddleja divine.
A needle through silk,
uncoiled proboscis slides
into a flower, sucking up
the molecules of fuel.
Body weight blooms,
freshly minted energy
flows through capillaries,
wings open, close, open;
experimenting with the air.
Untested monarchs rise
from a forest of green and white,
bodies buoyed by airspace,
flitting on unknowing wings
into a river of sunlight,
floating in the high currents
of a southerly zephyr.
The voyage is broken
by sheltered layovers:
a specific tree,
a glasshouse with no glass,
until arrival at the familial
milkweed flowering in a hacienda.
Eggs are laid and fertilized.
Spent, the monarchs float
down to the concluding earth.
Rising blind, offspring ascend
on virgin wings, northwards,
towards our buddleja
its bees and red cardinals
flowering in a Virginia garden
in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Find out more about the mighty migrating monarch.