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Imagination, that restless ghost

Will not stop haunting me,

Will not stop hunting me,

Or leave me in peace.

 

Its voice is insistent

Persistent

Consistent

Resistent

To my lethargy.

 

Like rain beating

On my window

Sometimes just tapping

Sometimes rapping

Sometimes loudly banging,

Never ceasing.

 

Why does it nag me so?

Does it really not know

There is no creation ex nihilo

Since the beginning?

 

What’s the point of having a muse

When you are not amused?

And wish to be left alone

Not in your thoughts

But thought less.

 

John said

‘Imagine there is no heaven’

That would indeed take a creative imagination

For one created out of God’s imagination

In God’s image.

 

Is imagination

The voice of God

Tasking us with being

Co-Creators

Not just re-creators?

 

 

Or is it just trace elements of the mind

Wandering

Wondering

Worrying

Wanting to escape the hardware

Called the brain?

 

 

I imagine so…

 

But then I always did have a vivid imagination.

 

What’s that whisper

That breath

That wind

That spirit

That still small voice uttering?

 

 

‘Be still, and know that I am God….’

 

Imagine that.

 

Know God, know peace

No God, no peace.

 

BW3  March 22, 2010

 

 

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