Where White Lilies Grow

by Elizabeth Done

Seeley-Swan High School, Grade 12

I know a place where the lilies do not thaw,

A place where beauty collides with all that is raw.

White petals extend past thick brush

Close by morning songs are sung by a thrush.

Breathing in adrenaline while mulies exhale steamy grunts

Never has it been about the hunts.

Where white lilies grow cow elk drop calves.

Sows guide cubs along narrow shale paths.

You can find me somewhere there about.

Most likely following a buck's route.

Is it wrong to breathe more than air,

To let the wind play with my hair?

At five thousand feet white lilies leave their pale mark

Where animals are lean and trees are stark.

Huckleberries smear across my palms like morning skies

Where a golden eagle flies.

In these alpine networks

I chase God's handiwork.

A minty caterpillar ascends a lily stalk.

Bitterroot clinging to rock

Bleeds pink down rugged faces.

I am in exactly the right place

To satisfy my thirst for violet skies,

Treacherous slides.

Where woman and land become reciprocal,

Both thrive because of the unpredictable.

Even when the land lies sleeping under frost

Where white lilies grow I am never lost.