Thousands of kings soar through skies–

orange and black flocks

riding winds between California and Mexico.

They weather storms, birds, and oceans.

But touch their royal velvet cloaks,

steal their fairy dust,

and their strength of flight weakens.

 

The nomads leave every year,

but always return home.

Their name crowns them–

the royals of the trees

bring orange to a town without seasons,

coloring leaves which refuse to fall.

.

You always wonder–

could the fluttering about your head

be the one you released for her

at the end of her life?

 

Anything can hurt a butterfly:

people, nature, life.

Humans injure,

but we’re pliable.

Bones heal, muscles rest,

Until they can’t.

 

Butterflies soar above

to escape the pressures on earth.

People wait on the ground

until it’s time to depart.

 

Now she soars,

joining the monarchs,

joining her monarch,

free.