Waiting On The Unicorn


Overlapping hills of vineyards

Like a medieval tapestry

As sure as memory serves us

In more than myth

I've seen the hoof prints

Close to vineyards

Clear

Precise

In dust n grass

I know he hides

Among the dripping grapes full harvest

Still as morning mist

Alert

Curious

Peering at our antics

Mere children in the round

Gaming in the fields of former seasons

And too

I know he has a cry

I heard it through the fog

Not quite like eagles soaring

Nor ghastly guttural as earthy creatures

Scavenging among the roots

His whisper

…Like the Beloved

Whistled

Breathy

Constant as the brook

Traversing

Pebbles in the spring

Or maybe rain on maples

As they shimmer moist

Absorbing autumn sun

Before the Fall


Once dozing in a

Sleepy trance

While sitting in the grass

Begging rapture to the senses

Little words from source design

Fell breathy ‘cross a dream

"Perhaps undress"

As seer in a trance

In thrall

I opened as the evening flower

Exuding

Sacred fragrance only known

At bedsides of the dying saints

Through and from the earth

The flame of ancients

Forged its way through vein and heart

Bursting through the age of Aeons

On the path that holds our form erect

In silent roar

Our spirits soared

Upon this lithe lean steed

I rode

(Ezekiel as witness to this sight)

Poured faith far through that endless night

No dark or light

No name

No hold no boundaries bold

What stirs in subtle beginnings

Ah

Re membering

The blessing's in the gathering of kin

Waiting on the unicorn

To visit once again