The Birth of A Unicorn

By Leatha McClure 10-12- 2020

His coat glowed with the light of a million full moons yet black as the darkest night. The white on his chest was as blinding as the new sun after a solar eclipse. Perched in the middle of his forehead was a silver horn. He didn't remember it being there before or being in this place. The last thing he remembered was her tears splashing his face as his head lay in her lap—a man with a white coat pricking his leg and then a flash of light. Beside him was the little poodle that had taught his so many things when he had arrived on the farm. How the littlest one was the boss and ate first, and he wasn't to put his big white paw on the boss's head and hold him down. She had made him special with his coat. He could make her feel safe and brave. He could go everywhere with her to do his duty. They say it's a service, but it wasn't; it was just love. Look, here comes two more shining black with silver horns. The smaller has white tiptoes.
The old one greets me with a nudge. " Welcome to the bridge."
The little one prances and nudges the poodle, the large one bows. Running across the green expanse comes a tiny white, curly-haired poodle.
"you are finally here!" he cries over and over at the little poodle.
Behind him with coats blowing in the wind comes the herders—poetry in motion. Out of nowhere, the hunters sneak up. The littlest one, the boss, looked them all over. "We are all here now, but two."
The new one looked at them all, seeing her love radiate from each and every one. A light so bright and pure.
"Will there be more?"
The old one nodded, "We are what keep her alive when the last one comes; it will bring her here to us."
"Come let us wait at the bridge for her arrival and those that will come before her." The littlest one says.
They all hear in their hearts her cry of "I, will follow soon, my loves."