Wondering, wandering
one night on a lonely hill,
I heard the silver music of tiny chimes,
ushering in the silver unicorn
cantering and floating
across the sky, over the grass.
He reared up, his spiraling horn,
huge black eyes
reaching toward the stars
and other worlds beyond.
Then he was gone - who knows where?
Still I felt the magic in the air
and so I keep returning
to this sacred spot.
Sometimes, if I'm lucky,
I see an apparition
of the unicorn,
a roaming ghost of his shape
rearing up as before,
poised white against the night
in perfect grace and communion,
and I revel in the mystery
and the magic
once again.
