I’m sorry Monarchs

Day 131

You go to sleep praying for miracles.

Hoping, that come daybreak, some magic will happen,

that will grant all your wishes,

bring great happiness,

some surprise to break up the monotony of a broken world.

But what is it?

This hoping?

This thin whine,

this clawing behind closed eyelids?

It’s a deep wanting,

but something more.

A memory,

cell deep,

carried in each ruby red blood cell,

stitched in DNA,

sealed in the very marrow of our bones.

A hollow calling,

a quiet voice in the darkness,

reminding us we used to be free.

When the moonlight was the only thing

we had to guide us through the night.

Here we are,

the glass people,

shattered into so many pieces,

held together

with glue.


It gets hard to hold the pieces together.

Maybe we should let them fall.

Until the ground beneath us sparkles

like a thousand stars

in the sky.

I’m thinking of the Monarch Butterflies again tonight.

How the Milkweed in my yard,

planted just for them

will continue to come up year after year,

even as the bright ones’ numbers dwindle,

and slowly fade away.

This anger is bitter.

This sadness is deep.

How can we go to sleep each night?

How can we lift our heads from our pillows in the morning

with the strange knowledge

that whole worlds are disappearing,

swallowed by a kind of blackness

that knows no end.

It’s too much,

this loss.

No wonder we try to ignore all of this, the sadness.

Some nights it does feel like it will swallow me up.

And tonight is one of those nights.

I’m sorry.

Thank you.

Please forgive me.

I love you.

Thank you for listening,




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s