Travels with the Unicorns

My body feels the ground touching me as if inquiring who I am. As I lay on her willowy threads of grass, the ground opens her pores to mine and invites me in. I feel her breathing me. The breeze combs through my hair, the sun softens my edges. And there is something else. A sweet breath caresses my face, exploring an unknown visage. Tiny velvet hairs sweep my face like a feathery dandelion ball. I open my eyes and peer into the large watery blue eyes of a unicorn fawn. Her eyes shine with purity and innocence inside a vast cauldron of wisdom. “Hello,” I whisper in amazement. The fawn, curious and inquisitive, gazes down at me, wondering if she has found a new playmate. Her gangly legs loom over me; her white tail cascades toward the ground in waves. I notice her horn on her forehead fits her delicate face in size, a little longer than her ears. Subtle sonar scans me like a magnified sixth sense, allaying any hesitation in her. Then, quite suddenly, she lies down next to me, putting her head on my chest. I lie there for a long while without saying anything, and look into her eyes. She does the same, as if waiting to see who will make the first move. I pause, wondering if any movement might spook her, as could happen with a wild animal. A soft hum begins to vibrate from my body. She opens her eyes a tad wider, listening to my hum as if reading who I am. My heart melts open. I feel a bond with her like no other. Her heart speaks to me, saying, “Come. Come play with me.” I smile as she rises to her feet, and I lift myself from the ground and stand next to her. Our communication flows unhindered within the vast circuit of innocence inherent in all of nature. I walk by her side, feeling like we’re old friends, as she leads me somewhere, and then she quickens her gait to a trot. She laughs at my astonishment of being able to keep up with her, though I know she is curbing her pace. Unicorns are known for their lightning like speed. She follows the forest’s edge, which spills out into hilly slopes and tall grasses. I watch her hooves dash the ground and spontaneously halt. She stretches her neck to a cluster of bright bluebell flowers, nosing them as if knocking on a door. Out peers a fairy from the hanging mouth of the flower. She flies out, lands on the fawn’s nostrils, and dances up her nose onto her horn. Her iridescent blue form drops pollen dust on the nub of Unicorn Fawn’s horn, perhaps an elixir to ease the ache of its swift growth. The young fawn seems to have visited her healer. Bluebell Fairy continues to flutter her feet along her eyes and ears and slides down her silky crested mane onto her back. She looks at me and asks, “Who are you?” “I’m a friend.” “It is unusual for a human to be with a unicorn fawn, especially without her mother.” I don’t know what to say and simply smile. Unicorn Fawn laughs. “She’s in disguise! Can’t you see her unicorn horn? It’s blue today, like you!” Then she adds, “Oh, my mother is close by.” Bluebell Fairy levitates with swift wings to check me out and lets out a cry of delight. “Oh, there’s hope for the human race! A human with a unicorn horn!” She flutters around excitedly and lands on my horn. “Don’t humans realize we are all aspects of the unicorn?” she says. “Humans have the potential to be a unicorn in spirit if they would only wake up to their true hearts. There’s hope, there’s hope!” Turning with a swift burst of energy, Bluebell Fairy kisses the fawn on her nose and retreats to her dwelling. We continue on our walk with my hand on Unicorn Fawn’s silky neck. We walk in silence for a while. I sense her horn radiating like a sonar antenna, attuned to nature around us. “What did Bluebell Fairy mean when she said humans could be unicorns?” She pauses for a moment and scratches her budding horn with her hoof. “Though I am young, I know I have been a unicorn many times. I keep returning to help stabilize the core essence within All Things.” She jumps and kicks out her hind legs in play and circles back to me. “Oh, plants have hearts too, even rocks, all pulsing in unity with the heart of Mother Earth.” “But what about humans?” I ask. “Aren’t humans animals too? Living on this Earth with the plants, the rocks, the other animals, and Mother Earth?” I wonder what she is getting at. I know this. “Humans are lost, though.” She slows her walk but keeps her playfulness alive. “They have lost their connection to their true hearts. Bluebell Fairy was inspired to see you, a human, who has manifested a unicorn’s horn.” “Remember,” she sings in a whale like tone, “love is our birthright. Our true essence. Humans have free choice to reclaim their true hearts.” She plays with a dragonfly passing by. “You see, then, that a human can carry the vibration of a unicorn. Yet humans don’t need to have a horn to carry the unicorn energy. The horn is a manifestation of an evolutionary commitment.”