Imagination #2:

If you could pretend, descend then

down the hole into the cavern — truth an oracle

ringing in your ears like the roar of the ocean

captured in the conch shell – only it is not ocean,

rather your own blood-beat, and so the oracle

is no truth-saying at all, but a response to eyes being opened.

If you could feign, enter the domain

through the solid rock of the cliff face — the light

disappearing as you enter through the gloom —

around you light blooms again as you stand

in the centre of the other world, its size

whirling ourwards from your very own, very small heartbeat.

If you could assume, let the fire consume

as you stand in the middle of the flame — await

death's forlorn call only to discover

in the middle of the sacred flame heat

does not sear but calls you further and further

into life's mystery so all realms become a single place of being.