! U N I C O R N 1 5 Poem by Michael Shepherd

and though there are places, times,
when you are most likely to find it
there in your heart,
there in front of your eyes –

the mossy glade within the woods,
the sunlight filtering through the trees,
or in the pure air of the highest hills,
or among the tossing white-topped waves –

or at the quiet times –
as the dawn sunlight makes the world anew,
plays to make diamonds of the dew,
or as the peace of dusk descends,
carrying a silent blessing –

the places and the times
when you’re most ready in yourself to meet it –

yet it can appear to you at any time or place –
the crowds, the rush, the noise
cannot disturb it
if it wishes to be seen by you

and afterwards, you’ll remember,
know just why it happened to be then and there;
and what it told you, all about yourself;

when it’s there, although we call it ‘white’,
it’s more than white – almost transparent,
almost like a living crystal sculpture of itself,
almost silver; somewhere where substances and colours
are first made, and meet each other;

it may look at you, with eyes that seem to know everything
and find everything, peaceful, loving, beautiful and reasonable;
or it may not look at you; but still
it talks with you with its very presence;
you know that’s so, because
you find yourself speaking to it in the same way,
opening your heart to it, because
it listens to you; it’s there just listening;
its listening is understanding;

and afterwards, the ‘afterwards’ is changed for ever;
as if you’ve met yourself, and find that good;
the world is yours, and possibilities
are boundless; and the unicorn
does not need your eyes - it makes its home
there in your heart
as if it had never been away.