Tiny Lords of Majesty
It’s due to a facet
of your hectic
nature
That you repose for
such a short time
Totally remiss in
your ignorant bliss
Unaware of your
beauty sublime
A deep sip of
Milkweed nectar
With proboscis quick
unfurled
Diaphanous wings
idle gently, lazily
Then long probe is
once again curled
Magnetic fields tug
once again
Beckoning you once
more away
Legs push up
Wings flex down
You’re never long to
stay
The compass of all
your travels is
Directed by the Sun
Your ticket is
punched both by
Nature…
And solar winds
All wrapped up in
one
Wings lightly,
delicately dusted
In powder of black,
red and gold
A tad tattered and
ragged It’s true
Yet still things of
beauty
Truth be told
But also warnings
against Avian haste
as bright banners
Proclaiming:
“Beware!
…Bitter taste!!…”
Thousands of miles
of improbable flight
Through blistering
days
And cold stormy
nights
To attend a reunion
With millions
In whispering chorus
On a cool
mountainside keep
Deep in a Mexican
forest
Are old
acquaintances
renewed?
Relations remade?
In the trees
garlanded
With color
In the cool forest’s
shade
Do they mourn for
one’s fallen
Along the way?
Do they have a
collective
consciousness
That they share In
some strange way?
It soothes me to
think
That they’re sharing
their lore
Of things that have
passed
And of things,
still in store
They’re mysterious
And amazing
creatures that I love
And are unique to my
eye
Lords of all they
fly above
…Monarchs of the
sky…
Copyright © David O'Haolin Whalen | Year Posted 2014
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