I first found the glade on a misty morn,
And gazed in wonder, as the sun was born.
I’d been hiking along a steep ravine,
Enjoying my journey of deepest green,
Flanked by limestone and ferns. The morning dew
Spangled a web, and as I peered through
The screen of thicket, my heart skipped a beat.
The sight which greeted me rooted my feet.
There, in an ancient ring of sacred Oaks,
Lay a unicorn. Her shimmering coat
Had been sullied by charcoal ash and soot,
The silken mane burnt, and tangled with roots.
Her poor eyes were puffed, blistered pink from fire,
Her silver horn tarnished, a blackened spire.
As I gaped at the legend, living proof,
The beast protectively curled one strong hoof
Around a small bundle. Pain-filled eyes stared
At me with bright warning, and as I dared
To creep closer, her proud head arched around
To nuzzle her treasure. There, on the ground
Near her singed belly, slept a swaddled babe.
Content, it rested. The child had been saved.
The mythical mother mare showed no fear,
And pity broke my heart. Two shining tears
Slipped from her once long-lashed eyes to the grass
Below her soft, trembling form. Then she passed
Back into the realm of magical beasts.
As she faded, the sun rose in the east,
Blazing tribute, paying homage to her
Sacrifice. And now, as I watch you stir
From sleep, your golden curls framing your face,
I remember her mystical, quiet grace.
I’m thankful I found you, so long ago,
The time is approaching when you should know.
You’ll ask me soon, “Momma, what makes me so wild?”
I’ll answer, “Because you’re the Unicorn’s Child.”
~ C.L.R. ~ © 2004