imagination —
the faculty enabling
human beings to
embrace an infinitude
of opposing truths at once

I noticed recently an acquaintance who gave birth last year is pregnant again. In my dream last night we were discussing a location as being ‘difficult to get to’, and once awake I wondered about ‘the womb’ as being equivalent to ‘heaven’. A baby of course need make no effort to arrive in the womb. For adults it’s different. The poem arose from reflections upon Heaven as a place that doesn’t really exist. And then I suppose by definition anything that doesn’t exist is imaginary. But if something exists in the imagination — then it exists after all. Or it both exists and doesn’t.


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