THE SONG OF THE BLUE UNICORN

A Fairy Tale by Carol Mason

Once upon a time there was a Blue Unicorn. It had large blue eyes and a long blue tail and a fine blue horn. The Blue Unicorn had been alive for as long as it could remember, and for as long as it could remember it had never seen another creature such as itself.
The Blue Unicorn lived in the land which it came to know as the Land of Bright Meadows, where it pranced in the grass and frisked in the flowers and played with all the meadow creatures. Happy were the days of the Blue Unicorn in that merry land, and safe were its nights.
But there was a gap somehow, between the Blue Uni-corn and the Land of Bright Meadows in which it lived; something which the land had and the Blue Unicorn had not. A sound in the air of the Land of Bright Meadows that the Blue Unicorn half-heard, half-felt, but could never quite
understand: a green and whispering sound—like the sound of a seed softly stirring its way from Winter to Spring.
"What is that sound?" asked the Blue Unicorn.
"It is the sound of our singing," replied the Land of Bright Meadows.
"Of what do you sing?" asked the Blue Unicorn.

We live and grow towards the sun,
To sleep is easy, to wake is fun, Life
is good and life is long— Because
we Hue we sing our song.

"We sing the Song of Living," replied the Land of Bright Meadows.

The Blue Unicorn listened once more and then tried to sing the Song of Living. But the only sound that it could make was a crackling, papery sound—like the sound of a dry husk peeling from a bulb. And the Land of Bright Meadows murmured in sympathy and wonder.
"Teach me to sing," said the Blue Unicorn.
"Our song is ours, you must find your own," replied the Land of Bright Meadows. "We are we and you are alone."
"Somewhere, somewhere there must be another crea-ture just like me who can teach me to sing," said the Blue Unicorn.
The Blue Unicorn left the Land of Bright Meadows and came to the Land of Deep Forest, where forest creatures nes-tled and burrowed and tall trees stretched dark above. The Blue Unicorn wandered in and out of the damp moss and dappled bracken towards the heart of the Land of Deep For-est, and as it did so, it heard again the sound it now knew to call 'singing': a brown and velvet sound, like the sound of a root delving for water.
"Of what do you sing?" asked the Blue Unicorn.

Towards the sun we live and grow,
Secrets of sap and seed we know.
We cannot share what we have learnt
Knowledge won is knowledge earnt.

"We sing the Song of Wisdom," replied the Land of Deep Forest.

The Blue Unicorn listened once more and then tried to sing the Song of Wisdom. But the only sound that it could make was the sound of a sigh—like the sound a leaf makes as it flutters from Autumn to Winter. And the Land of Deep Forest rustled in sympathy and wonder.
"Teach me to sing," said the Blue Unicorn.
"Our song is ours, you must find your own," replied the Land of Deep Forest. "We are we and you are alone."
"Somewhere, somewhere there must be another crea-ture just like me who will teach me to sing," said the Blue Unicorn.
And the Blue Unicorn left the Land of Deep Forest and came to the Land of Bare Mountains, where vast and ancient chasms divided each lofty range, where no tree grew and no bird flew and no shelter was there from storm or night.
Higher and higher climbed the Blue Unicorn, strug-gling to reach the highest peaks, and as it did so, it heard again the sound that it now knew to call 'singing': a trium-phant, ringing sound—like the sound a pinnacle makes as it pierces the wide sky.
"Of what do you sing?" asked the Blue Unicorn.

We live and grow towards the sun,
Alone and proud, the weak we shun.
Fearing nothing, our hearts embrace
Both grief oj time and joy of space.

"We sing the Song of Freedom."

The Blue Unicorn listened once more and then tried to sing the Song of Freedom. But the only sound that it could make was a painful, moaning sound—like the sound the wind makes as it searches bleak crags for somewhere to rest. And the Land of Bare Mountains echoed in sympathy and wonder.
"Teach me to sing," said the Blue Unicorn.
"Our song is ours, you must find your own," replied the Land of Bare Mountains. "We are we and you are alone."
"Somewhere, somewhere there must be another crea-ture just like me who will teach me to sing," said the Blue Unicorn.
And the Blue Unicorn left the Land of Bare Mountains and came to the Land of White Sands, where not rain nor wind nor cloud ruffled- the glowing air. And the Blue Unicorn entered into the sound it now knew to call 'singing': a sound
as full and as rich as the beat of the Blue Unicorn's blue heart —the sound of silence.
"Of what do you sing?" asked the Blue Unicorn.
And the Land of White Sands replied:

Under the sun we rest and know
While we are still, all else can grow.
Silence dwells behind each sound;
In that we trust, our song we've found.

"We sing the Song of Peace."

The Blue Unicorn listened once more and then tried to sing the Song of Peace, but the Land of White Sands shivered with sympathy and wonder to hear not singing, but the deep and awful sound of despair.
"Teach me to sing," said the Blue Unicorn.
"Our song is ours, you must find your own," replied the Land of White Sands. "We are we and you are alone."
The Blue Unicorn speckled the white sand with blue tears and said:
"Somewhere, somewhere there must be another crea-ture just like me who will teach me to sing."
And the Blue Unicorn left the Land of White Sands and came to the Land of Clear Waters which stretched shimmer-ing to the edge of the world. Weary was the Blue Unicorn, with a deep weariness that made the very marrow of its bones to ache. And the Blue Unicorn rested a while at the Land of Clear Waters, listening to the gentle, lapping sound it now knew to call 'singing.'
The Blue Unicorn lowered its head to drink, but as it did so, it quivered with sudden wonder and joy to see in the water below another creature—just like itself!
"O teach me to sing!" cried the Blue Unicorn. Then its heart stopped to hear that the creature below had cried even so. And the cry was followed by silence.
Then the Land softly sang:

As the blue of our waters is the blue of the sky
Your own self you see, to yourself you cry.
And what you would learn you always knew
For you are us and we are you. We are the Waters of Love
Of us we bid you to drink. With us we bid you to sing.

And the song of the Blue Unicorn was exactly the same and quite unlike every song that was ever sung.