Where the unlimited, expanding, limiting itself as it expands,
reaches where it can limit itself no further –
there it is; there in its, our, world; there you may see it;
where it could not be more beautiful
and yet be seen; where it could have
no other form, and still have form;
where it is most itself.
And so, where we are most ourself,
when we are most ourself, it’s there;
near; you may see it; you may not; near;
you and it, so close; and where
we are where all the stories tell –
the gate, the door, the mirror, the key that calls the hand,
the undergrowth pushed through, and there –
in the clearing in the woods, it is;
treading on the silent mossy ground,
can white be so transparent?
waiting for nothing and yet there;
where the limited meets the unlimited,
where we know
that whom we always knew we are,
unlimited;
Unicorn.
This is beautiful and mystical and profound...and I love the line 'can white be so transparent? ' This is the knowing that we have something special right in front of us that we cannot always see. Wonderful. Raynette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Truly a psychological adventure that encourages the reader to self-reflect. The Unicorn is something more than a Unicorn? In that case, II feel silly for not yet grasping the metaphor.