The Unicorn

The dawn across a desert broke
with flaming eye of rising sun,
a line of dust a swirl of cloud
with stretching neck and flying mane
she touched the earth to us she came.

Her head was fine her eyes were deep
her hooves cut crescents in my sleep,
I felt her breath across my face
she whispered of a sacred place.

She came to take me far away
to lands where only horses play,
she spoke to me of troubles deep
that sent the horse to man to keep.

“She is the keeper at the gate.”
A single horn upon her head
“she is the queen” the others said.

I looked around and as I dreamed
a herd of horses quietly streamed
their coats were bright their bodies fine
they told me they were mine.

She spoke to me of pain and strife,
of dying herds, of waring tribes
of why the horse would be our guide
forever always at our side

Their eyes can see into our night
Perceive our purpose and submit
man has the choice to take or give.

Men will come and men will go
some with friendship some as foe,
but she is wise and full of grace
no one will destroy her race.

The silver creature pawed the dust
and from it rose a tiny foal
of golden coat and silken tail.
‘These are the ones,” she cried
“who serve and never fail.

These are the horses of the sun
The fathers, mothers, children’s sons
Who will make all people gasp
when they perceive their speed and grace.

Then she rose and pawed the air
Where once was dark now all was bright
With shaded eyes I bent my head
Then she was gone, my vision dead.

I’ve seen her image on the walls
of ancient palaces and halls
I searched long through valleys green
and turned my feet to mountains mean.

To find again my silver friend
I wandered under foreign skies
Through storm and wind
Through snow and rain
To find my Unicorn again.

Then one late summer day
With golden leaves between the green
and autumn’s chapter in the wind
I saw her stand before me then
her silver skin and darkest eyes
I saw the horn, I saw her grace
The myth dissolved before my face.

Caroline Baldock © 2003