Imagine that any mind ever thought a red geranium!As if the redness of a red geranium could be anything but a sensual experienceand as if sensual experience could take place before there were any senses.We know that even God could not imagine the redness of a red geraniumnor the smell of mignonettewhen geraniums were not, and mignonette neither.And even when they were, even God would have to have a nose to smell at the mignonette.You can't imagine the Holy Ghost sniffing at cherry-pie heliotrope.Or the Most High, during the coal age, cudgelling his mighty brainseven if he had any brains: straining his mighty mindto think, among the moss and mud of lizards and mastodonsto think out, in the abstract, when all was twilit green and muddy:"Now there shall be tum-tiddly-um, and tum-tiddly um,hey-presto! scarlet geranium!"
We know it couldn't be done.
But imagine, among the mud and the mastodonsgod sighing and yearning with tremendous creative yearning, in that dark green messoh, for some other beauty, some other beautythat blossomed at last, red geranium, and mignonette.
