Imagination is defined as: “The act or power of forming a mental image of something not present to the senses or never before wholly perceived in reality” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary.) Children often use their imaginations in play, by pretending a make-believe setting while acting as a make-believe person, an important aspect in their development.

Two giants in their chosen fields of physics and literature wrote about the importance of imagination.

1) Albert Einstein (1879—1955), German-American physicist, considered by most as a genius, had the following to say about imagination:

— “The first sign of intelligence is not knowledge, but imagination.”

— “Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.”

— “Imagination is more important than knowledge, for knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world and all there will be to know and understand.”

— “Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.”

If Einstein credited imagination for his startling discoveries, perhaps we should take notice and engage our imaginations more.

(2) J.K Rowling (b 1965), the author of the best-selling Harry Potter book series, addressed the importance of imagination to the Harvard University graduates at their 2008 commencement:

— “Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathize with humans whose experiences we have never shared. (Harvard Magazine, June 5, 2008.)

Surely, a reader must engage their imagination to understand Harry Potter’s unique world.

In olden times, people attended stage plays to experience and visualize drama or comedy. The Motion Picture Industry translated the stage performances to the silver screen. Both carried visual and aural input, thus requiring less use of imagination. The advent of radio brought the stage and movie product over the air waves by actors reading scripts to a wide listening audience, so the bulk of the populace could “attend” those performances through their imagination to visualize what the actors portrayed orally, like the venue, the characters, the action. Accordingly, people listening to the same program could have much different views on what the landscape looked like. Television returned the visual aspect, thus reducing the imagination factor.

Apparently, the last bastion for spurring imagination remain in books, which still nurtures imagination among the other art forms.

Reading or writing poetry remains an idiosyncratic pastime, competing with television, video games and smart phones. But for those who embrace poetry for its economic structure and word selection, the benefits can be rewarding.

Some years ago, I purchased an anthology of poems to read and reflect whenever the urge arose. I found many of the poems both stimulating and enlightening. One poem in particular captured my fascination: Mule Team and Poster (1987) by Donald Justice (1927-2004.) It described the poet’s thoughts respecting a 1936 photograph of Walker Evans (1903-1975), a photojournalist during the Great Depression. The words brought more meaning to that photographic scene than any casual observation would have experienced.

Over our family room mantle hung a print of a bucolic, pastoral scene, into which I frequently immersed myself, pretending to stroll through the peaceful place and imagined surrounds. My frequent immersions led to writing a poem of my own, without formal training or experience. It produced a myriad of drafts, seeking the best words to describe my reverie. I tried rhyme, which added more complication and limited word selection, so I moved to free verse until my inner ear attuned to the syllables and word selection, and followed the advise of the French poet, Charles Baudelaire (1821—1867):

— “At its best, a poem is full of space and reverie.”

A framed print:
Hanging expressionless
Over the mantle place
For many years.

An accent piece:
Bought for color
Matching a decor
Long changed

A snapshot capturing:
The peaceful ambience
Of a less hectic world
In an earlier time,

Open fields, overgrown grass
Enticing a quiet walk
Along an ancient path
Leading to and from nowhere

Unfelt breezes
Whisk leaves askew
On bush and tree
To frame the background

A stone wall suggesting
Boundary and privacy
To a nearby house
White, cool and inviting

A treasure of tranquility:
Despite its inapt decor
Earning a revered place
For contemplative journeys

Whether my poem is any good or not matters little to me, as a rereading always transports me to a welcome, peaceful, relaxing place.

— “One of the best things about paintings is their silence, which prompts reflection and random reverie.” Mark Stevens (1916—1994)