Mariposa Trail: A Rider's Contemplation
I'll take the trail where the canyon turns wide, I'm bound for the Mariposa where the butterflies ride. Looking for the flash of a Yellow Swallowtail in flight, A vibrant, winged signal of pure golden light.
I'll rest my saddle beneath the Black Oak crown, Watching an orange Monarch drift silently down. A delicate, erratic dance, spiraling low and high, The humble Cabbage White fluttering by.
And surely it was the Creator’s most playful stroke, When he patterned the velvety black and gold of the Mourning Cloak. A genius of color in shadows and sun, The quietest marvel till the long day is done.
Yes, I’m headed down to the Mariposa trace, To find beauty and wonder in this wild, lonely place, To watch painted wings, fragile and frail, Gracefully riding the wind on the Mariposa Trail.
lookin' for a sign of the Yellow Swallowtail
Or maybe I'll sit under Black Oak trees
An' watch an orange Monarch on the breeze
While fluttering to and fro in sporadic flight
is a cabbage butterfly with his coat of white
An' I'll bet it was one of the Ol' Man's cleverest jokes
When he created black and yellow mourning cloaks
Yes, I'm gonna go a riding on that Mariposa trail
An' watch colorful butterflies, delicate, and frail
© Jerry England 1999
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