'For who may write into your soul, lest he reach into the heart of imagination?' -- "Pound: Title of Your Bones" (1917)

The place arises from the placing of the silences, blank between
the saying. The saying gives the thought, and thought assuades the thinker. Thought thinker thinking - rise together in the air, cut by the blade, the poem, your thought, down to the last iota of blood flowing through.

Peter

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Kris Kringle: You know what the imagination is?
Susan Walker: Oh, sure. That's when you see things, but they're not really there.
Kris Kringle: Well, that can be caused by other things, too.

Miracle on 34th Street