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| There is a moment, when the sun rises from its lonesome bedding of dark clouds, when the stars glow extra bright, bathed in gilded light. Time will stop for the blink of an eye, but the pulse of the world moves still, slowly, its heartbeat matching that of the dark shape that rides the silence from out of the shadows. Morning mists dance in her trail, as the dark unicorn of dawn sweeps like muted thunder over the earth, her hooves gentle but firm in their rythmic beat. Once she has made her way all around the girdle of the world, her dark mane lashes the shadows away and with great stomp of her hoof, all is returned, the world comes alive again. She has collected the night in her tail and the stars in her eyes. The moon is stored in her breast, like a great white heart. She's the spell of dawn. * BIG version |
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