I am riding my crispy-white unicorn
With sparkling star on his horn.
Where I am going?
Silver moonlight from above
Is painting a path
Among blossoming meadows
Of my dreams and desires.
I am riding my unicorn
Through the mist;
Barefooted, with veil on my hips,
Softly wearing my morning tiara,
Cleansing gently my soul
In the whispering creek.
Where am I going?
I am riding
Towards the morning.
Don’t wake me up, please…
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Riding a Unicorn
by Petrouchka Alexieva
Petrouchka Alexieva is an anthropologist with emphases in Ethnomusicology and Balkan culture, music and its Diaspora. She was born Bulgarian, but has lived in USA for more than 25 yrs.
