I stopped my bike halfway up the hill
to take a look at some small flowers...
I am quite sure most people don’t see them.
Having been more than two months without rain,
the plants Monarch butterflies like on our hillside
are drought-stricken... brittle sticks with no leaves;
but that hasn’t kept the spindly plants from producing
millions of tiny flowers that the butterflies need.
The butterflies themselves were skittish today...
They wouldn’t let me get close enough for a good look;
so I turned my full attention to the little blossoms
no bigger than the buttons on a man’s dress shirt.

I shall never forget noticing the blue and violet
on flowers I thought were all white and plain.
I had never really seen them at all.
I can now never not know they are there.from URN-BURIAL AND THE BUTTERFLY MIGRATION by Amy Clampitt

Oh,
we know nothing
of the universe we move through!
My dead brother, when we were
kids, fed milkweed caterpillars
in Mason jars, kept bees, ogled
the cosmos through a backyard
telescope. But then the rigor
of becoming throttled our pure
ignorance to mere haste
toward something else.