a zephyr

There is magic in the breeze.
It caresses and warms and cools, and all
at
the same time, and the wonder is:
why is that possible – or even is it?
Perhaps it’s not but it’s just
imagined because someone
needs to imagine it. Does that mean
the “timbered” tree makes no sound in the
deserted forest? And what is so wrong
with imagination? Einstein thought it
invaluable, likening it almost, it seems,
to a spiritualism, and maybe it is.
So, imagine away. No one will
punish you for it. In fact, they probably
will envy you.
And well they should, for imagination is
another name for dreaming, is it not?
Imagine that.
Yes.
Imagine
that.
Please do.