Mariposa, drifting through the wind, 
couldn’t wait to grow wings so that your life could begin. 

Found it hard to come out of your shell, 
but that’s a secret you’d never tell.

Mariposa, with the colors of fiery embers, 
went searching for warmth this September. 

All grown-up, with so much to live up to, 
suffered silently, while nobody else knew. 

Mariposa, why do you cry?
withstood wounds, yet still you could fly. 

Though you held on for as long as you could, 
you endured more than anyone should. 

Mariposa, breathe deep and close your eyes. 
You gained a new kind of wings, so in the place you left is where your memory lies.

Once just an adolescent, 
now your spirit shines iridescent.

Mariposa, your metamorphosis was remarkable for all to witness, 
it’s a tragic tale, your story had to end in sickness.

~~~
Much like last month’s post, inspiration for this piece came not from a true personal experience, but simply by learning about the life of monarch butterflies. Did you know that final generation monarch butterflies (born in spring, migrate south in fall) typically have a much longer lifespan (months as opposed to weeks) than the first generation (born late summer/early fall, migrate north in spring)? However, any of the migratory monarchs are likely to face threats to their survival along their journey. Therefore, some of the final-generation monarchs may not live as long as they are expected to, hence the idea behind this piece. I used the Spanish translation of butterfly, “mariposa”, as a nod to Spanish Heritage Month (September 15th-October 15th). If you’ve made it to the end of this, thanks for reading!