Tales

The Tale of the Unicorn

"The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown:
The Lion beat the Unicorn all round the town.
Some gave them white bread, some gave them brown;
Some gave them plum-cake and drummed them out of town."
Excerpt from Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There, by Lewis Carroll.

A silvery light glistened, illuminating the night as if the sun itself shone and cast shadows – a dark world that glowed with an eerie hue: another reality that silence enshrouded, holding the peace of the clear air that clung to each bough. A ‘through the looking-glass world’ where the rules were simply not the same, the flip side of the coin of daily existence – an opposite to everything that is usually perceived.

Our waking hours consumed with the known, whereas this environment contains the unknown. From the shadows emerge shapes, their silhouettes forming as if candlelight revealed them, one by one.

Not fearsome creatures that lurk in dark places, but the most surprising creations that might spring from the recesses of our imagination. Mythical beasts even – those that can be sung into existence with the purest thought. Those conjured by the power of belief alone, enabling them to show themselves. For the incantation that invoked these otherworldly beings was nothing more than the sense of joy and wonder we can all find, when we open our mind.

A thousand sighs carried on the breeze of the day abated, as in the stillness they waited. Children already tucked up in bed, their hopes and desires still ringing in their heads. And as they settle into dreams, fragments are gathered and drawn together to run the movie-like sequences of events that exist on another plane – an entirely different reality weaving its way through the many dimensions of their eager minds. Exhausting voyages with hidden dangers; discovery of treasures, hoarded through the ages. The storehouse of visions, held within the recesses that contain memories – a jumbled collection of associations somehow gathered into a new order of events, as far-fetched as we can stretch ourselves to accept.

Yet here, before our eyes, a magnificent creature has stepped into the light. We can rub our eyes in disbelief, and it won’t go away – its gentle presence cannot be denied, yet it also belies description. There is an eminence that penetrates the night – a sense of amazement at just viewing this sight, for magic has stepped forward, and it cannot be ignored.

How has Nature wrought such a feat? From top to tail he’s sleek and strong, his breeding evident; and the purest white, made even more visible by the glow from his crown – for both gold and silver, his horn winds around. Like a wand it is brandished, extended ahead, a radiant example from books we might have seen. His eyes contain mysteries that want to be found, the fathoms of wisdom in which we may drown. And then, when there are no more words we can use to describe – his mane is tossed, falling on one side. The breath from his nostrils sends vapour forth, the spell broken, as he addresses us now –

“What brings you here, my child, this night?
Alone in the woods – I mean you no fright.
I heard you whisper out my name
And the summons you made is answered – I came.
What is it you wish?
You may ask away
I am at your service till the break of day
For when first light dawns I must depart,
As dreams and daylight are kept apart.
A line divides each separate state, yet we’ve crossed it now –
I await your reply.”

What wish would anyone want to say – have we prepared a request, do we have it on hand? If we could ask anything, any wish in the world, how should we phrase it, as pertinent and not too bold? ‘Why are we here, what’s this all about, this thing we call life; the lives we act out?’ Or something more simple, like ‘How are you made? Are you real, can I be certain; how can I know you’re not a fake? We’ve been taught you don’t exist, so how can I trust my eyes, I can see you here in front of me – is it an illusion or disguise? How is it that we parley, if animals are dumb, how is it that you heard me – I wasn’t sure you’d turn up?’

‘Are you a figment or a notion, a dream or in my head – what am I to imagine, am I awake or in my bed? Why is it that I question, why can’t I just accept? For after all it was me who called, and here you are – I’m blessed!’

A laugh rang out into the night – a belly-chuckle if I’ve got it right – not a whinny or neigh but like fellow man, for language was no barrier, nor expression; we were the same? Another breed, or am I mistaken? A Unicorn, a creature from fables. With delight and surprise I’m taken aback, oh happy chance – I’m getting the knack. It’s as if this precious creature knows my mind, he reads all my thoughts; he must know I am kind. I love all creatures, great and small, whether mouse or elephant, I admire them all. Each one unique, part of Nature’s plan – yet how do I explain this one to Dad?

Who will believe if I say it’s true, my heart can feel it; yet what shall I do? Keep this a secret and file it away, my own little story – my very own play. In the spotlight before me, for the moon is now full, he stands in his majesty, and I’m held in his thrall. Speechless – yet it seems it matters not, for each thought I utter carries weight, lest forgot. The power I must harness remains mine alone, each ripple resounding from my mind – I know it finds a home. Unchecked I wander aimlessly; confusion enters easily – scattered far and sent out wide, when logic reigns – this I cannot abide. What my heart is telling me, I feel, I know, with certainty. The truth it seems is fortified, when I listen to my feelings, there is nowhere to hide.

‘Hello dear creature, pray, what is your name? Have we met before, you seem familiar I must say?’

“I know you it’s true, I’ve watched as you slept
Your many wishes granted, I’ve never really left –
At times you haven’t seen me, too busy you were then,
Too occupied with the trials of life to invite magic to your den.”

“Yet here I am, manifest –
Alive again at your request
That’s all it takes to make me dance
One joyous act, and delight abounds.”

“Call me, ask me; fire away –
The thoughts you’ve gathered, before we stray.”

So back I come to questions now, and top of mind is, ‘Does your horn have power?’ For I know of myths that state its might, how purity restores all plights. Such fables tell of antidotes, and those who were cured can’t help but boast – and it saddens me to hear such tales; that you were hunted like the Holy Grail. A salve for some, but at what cost – for surely, beauty struck down is lost? Your numbers diminished, or your kind thought extinct – for the pounding of potions, a species on the brink. On walls I’ve seen great tapestries, yet few explain their histories. Betrayal is the common theme – by one so fair, a maiden of esteem.

“I suggest you sit and rest a while, for my tale begins with what you desire. The story of the horn that grows from my head – spiralling out, magical it is said.”

“It all began some time ago, in a world when knights did battle with foe. In distant lands with maidens fair, where dragons raged, so did heroes appear. The hopes of all were pinned on them; to save all folk from strife they came. Joined together in a common cause, to rid the land of fear and wars. A questing army trained and bred, did uphold justice and provide the bread. For simple folks got used to protection, they toiled the fields and payed the tax collectors. Dragons it’s known, hoard their gold away; ordinary folk learnt to make ends meet, living day to day. Rumours of great treasure tempted many to seek it; many adventures lay in wait for those who ventured to seize it.”

“There was one knight who was set apart, his gallant acts renowned, for rescued maidens worshipped him – he stood on hallowed ground. Tall and blonde with locks that shone, in every duel he always won. Lancelot we know today, for much was writ that added to his fame. Camelot was quite a place – I’m sure you can picture it and give him a face. Excalibur, the sword that was wrought, good Arthur king with his consort – forbidden love, for Lancelot was smitten, then banishment, as it is written. For title and honour were not bound with love, duty was king, and service above. Much was forsaken in matters of the heart, thus many bonds were broken, and lovers torn apart.”

“There came a day when many complained, for much was forbidden in the law of the land – it was time to take these matters in hand. Love, the people agreed, is the cause of much pain and suffering. Yet for all its woes we cannot deny that to heed its call is what life’s all about. For nothing can mend a broken heart, love always triumphs, it’s clear from the start. If we follow our feelings at least we’ve tried; suppress all our instincts and what good is pride? A kingdom of peace depends on this act, for when forced into submission, we must react.”

“What life is worth living without joy of soul? For nothing else matters when our heart leads us on: our tender emotions; sentiments gathered and shared that bring pleasure to all; when love goes around it lights up the world – it opens the way for treasures untold. For what do we cherish, what do we hold dear – our loved ones, our kin; our loves heart most dear?”

“With loves return, it was decreed, there would be no room for power, or malice, or greed. As simple folk gathered they drew up their plans; they each made a vow – it was in their own hands. Each one would focus on themselves, on spreading joy; on what mattered the most. Belief in loves magic brought it alive; throughout the kingdom its practice began to revive. From hidden places, now brought to light, free to roam were loves creations – behold, what a sight!”

“Faeries and nymphs, pixies and elves – gossamer wings and magical worlds. Little lanterns guiding travellers, a welcome rest for many strangers. Golden woods and enchanted glades, crystal brooks and rainbow sprays. Mist now parting as the veil between the realms, barely in existence – for the two became so close. Reality was wearing thin; delight was the order – the origin. As the mundane waned there became a new normal, with wizards and witches and all the little people, talking horses and flying dragons.”

“The island of the priestesses could be found with ease: Avalon, isle of the blessed shores of the olde magic, its secrets revealed. Bards did roam, as troubadours, with wondrous lyres their melodies rang out. Across the land there was much feasting, yet with robe and crown, Arthur saw treason. He feared the Olde Ones, the ancient spells; he knew only warcraft and mustered power.”

“Thus magic was banished, stemmed in its tide, and magical creatures, forced to retire – to hide away in sacred places, to beware the dangers of human intervention. To inhabit only darkened woods, to hide in trees and toadstool hoods – no longer free to roam about – the faerie kingdom lost its place, forgotten by many in life’s growing race. Tiny kingdoms once perceived, an art that has to be believed; words of power once were known, but mist rolled in and tales dissolved. Troubadours, a dying breed; silence entered with jugs of mead. Sorrows drowned the search began, yet missing parts were now contained; suppressed emotions buried deep, for love of life had gone to sleep.”

“Enchantment woven all around – held within as Nature abounds. Laughter filled the ancient halls, as echoes rang from mounds and stones, the call was there, but no longer ears – mankind moved on and gathered peers.”

“A star above, what heavenly sight – granted to all who come this night. Delving into depths unseen, retrieving wisdom, for it’s time to gleam. The truth, now shining, does emerge; wake up, arise – you feel the urge. Question all you have become, bring all fears to the light of the sun. How dreary is a daily life, when filled with pressures, with toil and strife? Tilling not the fields of olde, nor gaining riches in form of gold – giving away most precious years, in pursuit of success, in acquisitions and deeds. Yet what good is plenty, when plenty abounds, why work to buy freedom, when it’s already ours? Why strive for something we can’t even see, for through lack we are caught in a chase – eternally. Looking beyond all that we have; wishing for new, for more, for ideals – what suits us the most, can we express what we feel?”

“How much does it take to be satisfied, what more do we want to fill our lives? Our moments taken with our tasks; what time is left to frolic, or to bask? The joy in all life’s simple pleasures, ours to cherish, to take at leisure – to return our sight we must look within, our hearts know the truth, and where to begin. Oh wondrous beauty all around, you dazzle me from carpet to crown. The leaves that gather beneath the trees – the dancing leaves that greet the breeze, the voice I hear that calls my name, it stirs my soul – I must reclaim – respect for every living thing, amazement as I hear birds sing. Curiosity sparked, a flame ignites – discovery fuels our gift of sight. The moon illumines the path we must take – the Goddess arises, her presence revealed, by reflection we are made whole, balanced and healed.”

“The rays of the sun from Heaven above, conjoined with silver, and woven with love – my horn connects this earthly world with higher realms, with those of olde. I stand between, a bridge to dimensions as yet indistinguishable. Sentinel, I point the way; charging forth, I guide the stray. Ride with me and the narrow path will open to thee – behold.”

I gasp! For there, revealed in most beauteous glade, a sight to marvel, to hold my gaze. I’ve never seen such special things; my eyes were closed to faerie rings. Dancing here now in the light – oh happy chance, oh blessed night! Gowns of golden spider’s thread, miniature jewels upon their heads; the faerie queen does greet me now – but shall I courtesy or offer a bow?

Eldora, the Queen of Roses, on faun she comes; an audience granted. Escorted by flanks of flying beings, each with a lantern, with which they do twinkle. Fireflies dancing – flittering – yet look more closely and finery’s revealed. When she speaks such softness touches my soul, “My child, my dear, what brings you this night, alone?”

What can I say; I’m lost for words, yet once again a thought occurs. She’s read my mind – and all it takes is to utter the truth; I cannot hide mistakes. Oh, how I wonder what’s wrong with my life – where happiness lies – why must I work to survive? Surely there’s a secret, something that can help – I’d rather spend each day enjoying what I’ve got. Why is it the world is divided up – why can’t we share, is it not all our lot? For Nature provides – the water, the sun – how can it be owned, is it not free for everyone?

A tiny tinker, like a bell; for clarity now broke the spell – a peel of laughter, once again, for mirth was queen in this fair land. “My child you are most welcome here, we watch and wait, we invited you near. For when you were young you knew us well; the march of time has left a haze – we ask you now to recall your early days. When the world was yours to roam at will, and imagination which brings such a thrill; to wanderings and play with plants, discoveries that each did enchant – you used to think we took your teeth, and helped at Christmas while you slept. You gave us gold and left us treats; you believed in us then, what changed your mind – the fear of ridicule by others of your kind? So here we are, if you’ll accept this precious vision – and the hope we’ve kept.”

“Listen now my child, you’ll see, the Earth is yours; you hold the key. You ask and this means all is given, the way to freedom is yours already; see it done and mote it is, have faith in life and all its kin. Speak your truth; don’t hide away, for in shining brightly all are saved. Much has given way to stress, to disconnection – to separation from what’s best.”

“You are indeed a child of the stars, free to travel anywhere at will. With passage granted by design, it’s energy that calls you home. Light and sound do resonate – hear our voices, the sound we make – it strikes a chord you cannot deny, the way of the universe is yours to try. When we know and speak our mind – not for others, but for ourself most kind – we honour life and all it holds, for truth revealed does open doors.”

“Compromise has long held rein, yet confidence returns again. Who can deny your own true feelings, but yourself when it makes you uneasy: judge and jury, the executioner, release the shackles that hold you to murder – for hiding your experience only serves to stunt your growth. Killing softly the lightness of your spirit, for in seeking acceptance we only find limits. Why not be what others only dream, for if it is possible, why not go to extremes?”

“The only way forward is to fly on the breeze, to float like a feather, to live life with ease. Mustering courage and mastering regret, harnessing your power for what lies ahead. For talk we do from every bough, we’re here with you in every flower. Our beauty lies within clear streams, our love pervades all waking dreams. Each petal dropped, a sign, a blessing, we shower you now with our undressing. For spring has found you as its bride, a maiden fair from tales you’ve read; all awe and reverence at Nature’s door – turn its key and wonder no more!”

‘Eat me, drink me – what’s it all about? If I follow you, will I lose sight of what I know? I’ve also heard the many tales, where time disappears while the world outside ages. Merriment is fine, that’s true, but what of responsibilities – there is much I have to do?’

“Cast aside the weight on your shoulders – here, take my hand, accept what is offered. Step outside your comfort zone, come join with us; come take your throne. For life is fun, full of constant delight, not ‘things to do’, or ‘commitments’ added to your plight.”

“Sold are you if your soul must work to make a living – for life’s rewards are there already; not bought or traded, but given willingly. Belief in goodness is all it takes, belief that everything is there on a plate. Belief you are worthy and none are deprived, belief in the miracles often cast aside. You’re told to queue up in a line, to wait your turn, to compete to shine. Success is admired when you reach the top: of a chosen profession, of a field, of a flock. Athletes strain towards a goal, yet winning surely takes its toll: you all compare – opinions offered – and commentary rules the day. Everyone knows it is ‘do or die’: keep up, go the distance, or sit on the sidelines.”

“Yet where does it stop – does the race ever end, are we on the home straight, or looking around the next bend? If surprises are on the horizon, do we find them by chance, is there room left for magic, with a cursory glance? Distracted we falter; we find we’re off key – for the music of the spheres is always harmony. Perfection is a natural state, not a place to reach – a state of grace. How can we find it when we’re chasing our tail, for in doing we deny it; our attempts destined to fail? Contrary to popular belief, there’s nothing we need to bring relief. Release the pressure on ourselves – it dissipates, we are resolved. Can I spend this moment dreaming? Can I concentrate on breathing? Being present not running hither, can I soak up the beauty – all around me – before I wither? ”

“Enjoyment comes when we call its name – the pleasures that are ours to claim. Cup now raised I drink my fill – Holy Grail I hold you high, with great esteem I drink in life. There’s always enough to quench my thirst – my cup is brimming with joy and mirth. I raise it now in celebration, chalice claimed – a revelation. Mine to fill to overflowing, nothing missing – not a drop of essence wasted if I see each as precious already – to be tasted. Why wait, why tarry, why ponder on this – why question the ‘how’ when my heart knows its bliss? Letting go, I cast aside, what others think merely ego or pride, for it’s what I know that is what matters, all else deposed – a life in tatters. For illusion is all that stands in my way, not the other way round – flipped in exchange. The lies we lead are not our truth; they conceal the facts that won’t be proved. Flights of fancy are mine to make, for in venturing out, the results come in my wake.”

“With disbelief come disbelievers, when sceptics gather they beg to differ. Debate makes rifts and cuts to shreds all who dare – on a block, off with their head! A Cheshire cat can hold a grin, his body fading – now where’s his chin? Reality begins to fade – what have we now, a King of Spades? Dig a hole and bury our feelings, and who knows what will happen in our dealings? Fairly fought is fairly won, yet why take sides, why wager an outcome? We’re used to expecting what we know, it’s how we measure our lives – it’s all a show. Yet the final curtain – the final act – is ours for certain, and no one can predict. What’s done is done, it’s been and gone, it’s all behind us – what remains is ours alone, taken to our grave, its experience unknown.”

“For those that have passed and survived the ordeal, tell of much love and peace – but can this be real? How can we know of life’s final test, have we done well enough – can we say it’s our best? If we set aside any notions of Heaven, is there anything we’d like forgiven? When material means have disappeared, are we equal in the eyes of ‘All That Sees’, an all-knowing presence – telepathy? If our thoughts can be read, just where do we hide; behind a façade and fooling our self – for how can others see us if we operate by stealth?”

“How many faces do we need to survive – the one that feigns contentment with anguish inside, or the happy-go-lucky that wants to control, or the dictator that rules because it’s afraid and insecure, or the angel of perfection when we act demure? All must come to balance, displayed for all to see, for all is all encompassing, not one, not two, not three.”

“Three wise monkeys, in a row: hear no evil, what does this mean? Don’t jump to conclusions or judge what you hear. Everything can be taken either way – when we take sides there is only debate. The centre is the way of truth for the heart is at the core: hear what we want to believe, or hear with reverence for all we receive. See no evil, it is obvious, see all for our benefit and we’ve risen above. See all as ‘good’ no matter what passes, look for the beauty in all we encounter. Speak no evil, for we have a choice, to speak our truth, or stifle our voice – to nip our words right in the bud, to bite our tongue, to chew our cud. Procrastinate or store away, afraid to speak we self-deprecate. Our audience is now ‘all ears’, but what of all our deepest fears?”

“ ‘Off with their heads’, the Queen of Hearts cried, poor Alice was shocked – what way is this to be tried? When ‘head’ takes over and logic prevails, our feelings smothered in favour of ‘all the rage’; a division is created, we are cut in two – confusion claims the day and governs all we do. The Unicorn (we’ll bring him back) has something to say – step up my dear fellow – it’s been a long time, you’ve been very patient.”

“Time matters not, you well do know, for all is fluid in our realm. Not measured by time or space – eternal presence is without the chase. I practice the art of listening; of tuning in, of discerning the truth – and in this role I must be clear, I would like to add something sister dear.”

“You wonder what my horn is about – why such a trophy is hunted and bought. To know what it does signify, is to bridge the gap between live and die. I told you that I straddle worlds; I mark the way between the realms. A beacon I must guide all souls – though few can see me, truth be told. When all is well there is no mind, but one direction – intertwined. Know yourself, and reveal your true desires, and as they guide all undertakings your mind shall be retired. One sure path, a simple step, for peace of mind is the gift of the adept. Instinct rises, and followed through, all acts from ‘knowing’ are in tune with you. Master this and do it well – discern what’s real and what’s from ‘Hell’. For all this means is miscreate – against your wishes or in debate.”

“All that works in harmony contributes to life – to you and me. Spiral horn that is wound to a peak – a cycle of creation, the flow we all seek. For the universe turns, and us on our axis – it all depends on the direction that our thoughts and words have charted. Think of the consequences of all you create; how actions contribute, or conversely, take, take, take. Give back to Mother Nature, take the time to care – offer goodness every day and I will soon appear.”

“When loving thoughts are followed through, harmony reigns again – the Lion and Unicorn are side by side; not conquering or defence. You see what is light is also dark, and black absorbs the light. And all that rises must come down, as sure as day and night. There is no right or wrong at all – the sides are joined, they form a whole. The looking-glass world is in reverse, as with much of the view of our universe. We only see what we’re prepared to accept – if you ask for proof you are only inept, for how can you fail to take into account the myriad expressions of life that abound? Take on the critics and what do you find, the only one to be silenced exists in your mind. Accept your truth and know its uniqueness, discount all else and what shall complete us? Completed actions – energy – cycles of awareness, conscious for all to see – an essence that shines, and one that endures, permeating our being; compassion for our cause.”

“To be part of humanity is to have a purpose, a plan; a decree. For all of life, in whatever way, has something to offer – it serves; there is gain. Walk about in appreciation and we feed the source of all creation. Bow our heads and ignore the day, a burden we are – the reverse – in decay.”

“With that I leave you to ponder your questions – for the meaning of life is the same for all creatures. Whether great or small, invisible or in sight, the same equation overrides abilities and evolution – much easier to understand when we focus on solutions. Wisdom gathered over the ages is ours to grasp, not just the domain of sages. We have the power to make the change – to truly set our course, to walk our talk and show the world exactly what we’ve got. A unique perspective, a way of seeing, something to say, with every good reason – the time has passed when this would be treason. The very adventure in which we participate is a battle of olde – as our self is remade.”

“Invisible threads now come into sight, the pieces we’ve hidden, the fragments brought to light. Aspects we’ve stored from lives over ages, coming together as new chapters; new pages. The ‘horn’ our true sight as magic awakens. The gifts we have lost, ours to use again, our third eye open as we pierce the veils. New avenues await our attention as we travel easily beyond our dimension. Uncovering the tapestry that forms our existence – the Lady and the Unicorn, here in an instant.”

“The fairy queen bids us goodnight, for day is breaking in all its might. From shadowlands the magic departs, yet deep inside we may know it in our hearts – it matters not, the chance we’ve taken, our spirit soaring – not forsaken. Call and we will meet again – we’re sure you know we’ve made good friends. From dream to daylight, now awake – from nether realms to daylight take – we call this journey ‘consciousness’ – as a willing participant in all that occurs to us. To clearly define, or draw the line, only closes the doors that are opened thus – for what we see is not all we can trust, knowing that wherever we place our attention, the answers will come – from another dimension.”

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