Art and the philosophy of life

Archive for the ‘Unicorns’ Category

Unicorn…a story.

Unicorn, Dream, Sky, Magic, Fantasy

“What are you?” asked the boy.

“I’m a unicorn.”

“Unicorns don’t exist.”

“I know,” said the unicorn.

“Then how can you be one.”

“One what?”

“One unicorn.”

“I just am,” said the unicorn. “Whether you believe in me or not, has nothing to do with the fact that I exist.”

The boy nodded.  “A lot of stuff’s like that.  People say things are real, when they aren’t, and unreal, when they are.”

“Happens all the time,” agreed the unicorn.”

“My name’s Jerry, what’s yours?”

“I’m a unicorn.  Unicorn is my name.”

“You don’t have something you’re called that makes you different from all the other unicorns?”

“Apparently not.”

“I don’t think humans could get along without names.  We have to call each other something.”

“Why?” asked the unicorn.

“So we know who we’re talking to, I guess.  Besides, we have to put our names on school papers, or the teacher won’t know who wrote what.”

“Would that be a bad thing?”

“Not for me,” he laughed.

“A lot of your gods are invisible and people believe in them.  Why can’t they believe in unicorns?”

“Some of us do,” he said.  “My sister loves you guys.  I guess people believe in invisible gods because they’d be really disappointed if there was a real god in the world.”

“That makes sense,” said the unicorn, flicking his tail.

“To me too.”

“You said your sister believes in unicorns?”

“She’s six.  Her whole room, and most of her clothes, are covered with pictures of unicorns.”

“People like that help keep us alive.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not that we would die with out people believing in us, but once something disappears from the minds of others, it’s kind of like dying, or just being deeply forgotten.  People who lived a thousand years ago aren’t remembered by anyone, so they are good and truly dead.”

“I never thought of it that way.  Maybe if I stop thinking of William, he’s a kid in my class, he’ll disappear.”

“It doesn’t work that way.  You need time to forget and more than one person has to do it.”

“I knew it was too good to be true,” sighed Jerry.

“Everything has a time to be and a time not to be.  If everyone was remembered, things would be rather…cluttered.”

“True,” agreed Jerry.  I guess everything fades away eventually.”

“It does, but that’s not a bad thing.”

“It isn’t?”

“No.  It just makes room for new things.  Human egos are fragile.  People put importance on things that don’t matter.  The only thing that’s truly important, is what you do in the moment, because that’s all that actually exists.  There is no past or future, there never has been.  There’s only now.”

“You mean like, now I’m talking to a unicorn?” he laughed.


“Are you like a pegasus, but just without wings?”

“Not really.  And a pegasus isn’t like a unicorn, just without a horn.  We are different species, but it’s hard to tell since we do look like the horses you have on earth.  We have more magic than is allowed on this plane, that’s why we can’t live here.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Not many people know that,” said the unicorn, kindly.

“My mom said that whatever can exist here is here, and whatever can’t survive here is not here.”

“She’s right.  Everything has its place.  There are limits on everything.  There are things you can’t live without.  If oxygen were to disappear, everything would die.  Everything needs certain things to live, and if those things aren’t available, then whatever needs those things, can no longer survive in that place.”

“Fish and I can’t change places,” said Jerry.

“You cannot.”

“Why are you here?”

“I stop by once in awhile,” said the unicorn.  “I like it here, but I can’t stay very long.  My magic interferes with the electrical energy that exists in this place.  In fact, it’s time for me to go.”

“It was very nice meeting you,” said Jerry.  “I don’t suppose many kids get to meet a unicorn.”

“They definitely do not.  You are one of the few who can see me.”


“Really,” he said, shaking his mane.

“Do stars live inside of you?” asked Jerry, staring at the unicorn.

“Some do, and if they are showing, that means it’s time for me to…”

“Disappear,” said Jerry, who continued to stare at the spot the unicorn had been standing a second ago.  “Bye,” he whispered, as he turned and walked toward home.

Peace on earth will only come about when the unicorns return…

white and black unicorn mural

Photo:  Karen Powers

If I had a unicorn…a poem for children

Animal, Equine, Rearing, Horse

if I had a unicorn
I’d play with him all day
and sleep curled up among his legs
and dream the night away
I’m not sure where to find one
I don’t know where they live
but I think there’s some at
so that’s where I’ll begin


Picture:  Pixabay

Okay, so unicorns…

Animal, Creature, Equine, Fantasy

My daughter loved unicorns when she was young.  I mean who doesn’t, right?   She collected them.  Cards, statues, everything.  I kind of collected a few myself.  But the differences between our unicorns were obvious from the start.

Her unicorns were all white, with flowers in their manes.  Beautiful, delicate, and graceful unicorns.

My unicorns were black, or dark blue, with thick ankles and big hoofs, their wild manes thrashing in the wind, against a black and navy blue sky.  Mine were furious, ready for war.

The other day, when we were shopping, she came up to me in Barnes and Nobles and handed me a black unicorn.  She held up a white one, with flowers in her mane.  It was a sweet gesture, taking us back many years.

We are yin and yang.  She’s gentle and lives in a garden.  I’m furious and I live in a war zone.  Neither of us has changed.  We love our unicorns still, and like them, we are who we are.   I made her life difficult.  I can’t even see the garden…I just see the bodies.


Animal, Creature, Fictional, Horse

I’ve been thinking a lot about
some scoff at those who
believe in them
others are far too embarrassed
to admit they know they’re real
I’m not sure where they live
but they live
and they’re as real
as anything else we make up
kids believe in them
and kids know a lot more
about things like
than adults do
so that’s
good enough
for me

if only growing up
didn’t so often mean
killing one’s imagination


Picture:  Pixaabay



Somewhere, they are alive…

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