“I will remember that who I am is a figment of my imagination.”
      Then is who you are a figment of your imagination?
      Or is it that you too are a figment of mine?
Is it that all that I can name is a figment of my imagination?
      Homo sapiens, canis lupus, thymus vulgaris, salvelinus fontinalis?
      Mountain, forest, prairie, sea?

I will remember that who I am is a figment of my imagination,
      and that from imagination comes all the rest too:
      me, you, us, them, a world, this world.
If there were no one to imagine, then nothing would be.
      Imagination names and naming identifies and identity is being,
      a clutter of atoms becomes some thing, some one.

In the beginning all was formless and desolate and God said.
      The saying is the making.
      The naming is the birthing.
I will remember that who I am is a figment of God’s imagination,
      I and you, quaking aspen and chipping sparrow, spring tide and aurora borealis,
      all of us, all of this, a figment of God’s imagination.

Thanks be to God.