Here sits the Unicorn
Here sits the Unicorn
In captivity
His bright invulnerability
Captive at last
Here sits the Unicorn
In captivity
Yet free
He could leap the corral
If he rose
To his full height
He could splinter the fencing light
With three blows
Of his porcelain hoofs in flight
If he chose.
He could shatter his prison wall
Could escape them all
If he rose
If he chose
Here sits the Unicorn
The wounds in his side
Still bleeding
Dream wounds, dream ties
Do not bind him there
In a kingdom where
He is unaware
Of his wounds, of his snare
Here sits the Unicorn
Leashed by a chain of gold
To the pomegranate tree
So light a chain to hold
So fierce a beast
Delicate as a cross at rest
On a maiden's breast
He could snap the golden chain
With one toss of his mane
If he chose to move
If he chose to prove
His liberty
But he does not choose
What choice would lose
He stays, the Unicorn
In captivity
Yet look again
His horn is free
Rising above chain, fence, and tree
Free hymn of love; His horn
Bursts from his tranquil brow
Like a comet born
Cleaves like a galley's prow
Into seas untorn
Springs like a lily, white
From the Earth below
Spirals, a bird in flight
To a longed-for height
Or a fountain bright
Spurting to light
Of early morn
O luminous horn
Here sits the Unicorn
In captivity?
In repose
Forgotten the strife
Now the need to kill
Has died like fire
And the need to love
Has replaced desire
Quiet, the Unicorn
In contemplation stilled
With acceptance filled
Quiet, save for his horn
Alive in his horn
Horizontally
In captivity
Perpendicularly
Free.
--Anne Morrow Lindbergh
1955
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