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witchscauldronI dreamt I was under the arms of a vast, sylvan forest - light streaming thorough the canopy, the whole nine yards. In a clearing stood many unicorns, all shades of white and grey and gold...but none looking like a traditional unicorn. You know - that godawful pure white arabian with a gold horn stuck to its head? These were mottled, dappled, pattered, rough, feathered, bearded, and odd all at the same time. You could see the texture on the horns and hooves - totally organic. Lovely.
I remember following - perhaps flying? - after a pair that left the forest. Swift movers. One looked...strange - almost camelish, without the hump, and a long curved horn. Ivory and spotty almost. The other was like a heavy horse - Clysedale, abundance of feather, but bearded, shot with silver on white-grey. They ran across a vast golden plain, almost like grain but grass - I can still remember the taste of the grass in my mouth as I chewed on it.
They stopped at a high bluff over the lower plain. The camel-like one lay down, and closed its eyes. The other stood watch, screaming notes of outrage over the emptiness. The scene was unlike the forest - it felt cold, forbidding. The unicorns didn't feel as I remember as a child - they too were forbidding and cold - but they were normal creatures. No radiance of love and beauty and holiness - almost as if they were unclean, or outcast. Abandoned on a plain of whispering, empty colour. Stark.
I awake.
*****************************************
When I was a child I used to see unicorns. They were a joy in sometimes painful times. My mother used to tell me I wasn't seeing them, that my imagination is overactive, but I knew better.
As I got older, well...womanhood approached. I lost my virginity, and after that I never saw another one again. I know they're still around...I catch faint glimpses every now and then. But they never approach me anymore. It is as if my own taint has caused them to leave me. I don't know what I could ever do to purify myself for them.
It leaves me wondering about this dream. I haven't dreamt of unicorns in so long....
-m.
I remember following - perhaps flying? - after a pair that left the forest. Swift movers. One looked...strange - almost camelish, without the hump, and a long curved horn. Ivory and spotty almost. The other was like a heavy horse - Clysedale, abundance of feather, but bearded, shot with silver on white-grey. They ran across a vast golden plain, almost like grain but grass - I can still remember the taste of the grass in my mouth as I chewed on it.
They stopped at a high bluff over the lower plain. The camel-like one lay down, and closed its eyes. The other stood watch, screaming notes of outrage over the emptiness. The scene was unlike the forest - it felt cold, forbidding. The unicorns didn't feel as I remember as a child - they too were forbidding and cold - but they were normal creatures. No radiance of love and beauty and holiness - almost as if they were unclean, or outcast. Abandoned on a plain of whispering, empty colour. Stark.
I awake.
*****************************************
When I was a child I used to see unicorns. They were a joy in sometimes painful times. My mother used to tell me I wasn't seeing them, that my imagination is overactive, but I knew better.
As I got older, well...womanhood approached. I lost my virginity, and after that I never saw another one again. I know they're still around...I catch faint glimpses every now and then. But they never approach me anymore. It is as if my own taint has caused them to leave me. I don't know what I could ever do to purify myself for them.
It leaves me wondering about this dream. I haven't dreamt of unicorns in so long....
-m.
