Dreaming the Unicorn

I dreamed I saw the Unicorn last night.
It rippled through the forest, pearly white,
breathing a moonlit silence.
Its single horn stood shining like a lance.
I saw it toss its head and snort and prance
and paw the midnight air.
Its mane was like a mass of silver hair.

But suddenly it shuddered.
It sensed my spellbound gaze,
my wondering eyes,
and turned to look upon me with surprise,
seeming to read my face and looking as if to say,
“You are not from this place. What is your business here?

My mind was far from clear.
I could not think or speak.
Above my head, I heard the branches creak
and then, from where I stood,
I watched it flicker off into the wood,
into the velvet space between the trees.

A sudden rush of rapid midnight breeze,
that felt both chill and deep,
awoke me from my sleep,
and there upon the pillow by my head
I found a strand of shining silver thread.

I kept that strand of mane,
I keep it, still,
inside a box upon my window sill.
And when the world hangs heavy on my brain,
it helps me dream the Unicorn again.

By Tony Mitton
Artist https://www.deviantart.com/esveeka