The Mariposa Lily

Ina Donna Coolbrith (1841–1928)

INSECT or blossom? Fragile, fairy thing,

Poised upon slender tip, and quivering

To flight! a flower of the fields of air;

A jewelled moth; a butterfly, with rare

And tender tints upon his downy wing,

A moment resting in our happy sight;

A flower held captive by a thread so slight

Its petal-wings of broidered gossamer

Are, light as the wind, with every wind astir,—

Wafting sweet odor, faint and exquisite.

O dainty nursling of the field and sky,

What fairer thing looks up to heaven’s blue

And drinks the noontide sun, the dawning’s dew?

Thou wingèd bloom! thou blossom-butterfly!