Monarch butterflies are symbols of resurrection in many Christian traditions. This one nectars on Joe-Pye weed in our garden.

For Cathy, Joe, Michael, Gerry, Mateo, Bob, Mary, Marlene, Russ, John, Ruth and so many others.

The author of the Old Testament Book of Wisdom¹, describes the souls of the deceased as shining and darting about like sparks through stubble. For me, the image conjures memories of a marsh alight with glowing fireflies on a June evening, or perhaps the incandescent flash of countless frost crystals suspended in January moonlight.

On this All Souls’ Day², I also envision departed souls as dozens of migrating monarch butterflies rising, circling, blending together under the heavy limbs of white oaks on a warm September afternoon. The sun ignites a golden-orange blaze of wings as the swarm settles for the night. They are the newly metamorphosed, filled with light, energy and purpose. I am awed by their transformation from caterpillar to butterfly and the mystery of their autumn migration — not so unlike resurrection.

Sometimes I fear death’s unknown aspects and I’m curious about what’s next, especially since my own recent cancer diagnosis. A beloved family member, when faced with death, accepted that after more than 16 years of successfully treating multiple rounds of metastatic disease, it was time to let go. Her body simply wouldn’t tolerate further chemotherapy. She believed that she was about to begin a great adventure, she was curious and ready to go. Whenever I worry about death, I hold her wise words in my heart, along with the image of late-summer monarchs beginning their journey.

^{¹Wisdom 3:7. Included in the scriptures of the Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches.}

^{²All Souls’ Day, November 2, is a remembrance of the deceased in some Christian faiths.}