The Last Unicorn

SHADOWFAX
There is a spell written in the snow on Duke Street,

For a questioning man who dwells in dark and doubt;

It lay safely hidden beneath the maple branches,

Until one day his memory surrenders there

To the softly whispered story of lost Winter kisses,

On St. Valentine’s Eves that were stolen too soon;

Each word, a glimmer in the moonlight,

Icy sparkles formed by Unicorn tears,

Composing this stark Truth inside two haunted hearts:

“We leave behind our unicorns

The ones that get away —-

But they’re never fully gone ,

They will always be here,

Roaming forever

In the grassy fields of your soul.”

(Yes. Always.)

-S.

 

 

 

 

 

Flowers For A Ghost

Flowers for a ghost

When I gave up hope of knowing if You still think of us,

Shadows filled my Ghosted heart and cast a sick and heavy darkness over me.

I lived my life with my hands, my heart and my face pressed against the glass;

Ever mindful of the impossible separation between what we had and what we’ve made,

Ever hopeful that somehow, someday, you would return for your lost Jewel.

I did not know it then, but I was never alone in my misery, nor was I ever to blame

You claim you were still with me always- like two white swans, floating inseparable in the dark silence.

I believed I could never dream to be whole again when I lost You from my life;

I was certain when I slammed the door shut that I would lock it tight and never open it again –

Until you re-appeared: ever charming, ever enchanting, ever attractive as Always.

And had there been more Time, you were always my Ever After…

But something wicked was written between our stars to abruptly cross out our story.

We can meet a million times over and I would not miss a chance to dance our unique song

Until then, I am the ghost Now gazing through the glass;

Spinning fantasies of what was Truth and refusing to believe in what hurts and haunts the most:

The mess becomes a Man and his Unicorn a Ghost… 

And while Knowledge, Music, Art, Culture, Ideas and Romance are finally mine again;

It is only because I can still feel you burning inside of me that I press bravely on…

Still holding tightly to these flowers for Your ghost who visits me now in wake and in dreams,

At a time when it is Impossible to Love;

… but necessary to try.

(exits stage left- slowly; towards the shadow of the Last unicorn herder.)

-S.