Oh this is the animal that was never made.

Oh this is the animal that was never made.
It was unknown, and yet each trait
—its walk, its poise, its neck,
even its radiant silent gaze—was loved.

It was not. But because they loved it, it became
a pure animal. They left space enough.
And in that space, clear and set apart,
it lightly raised its head, and barely needed

to be. They fed it with no grain,
only with the endless possibility of being.
And that gave the animal such power

that out of its brow a horn came forth. One horn.
Gleaming white, it approached a maiden
and was, in the silver mirror and in her.

– Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus, II. 4., tr. C. Corbell

This poem is about the unique ‘creature’ that comes into being through imagination and love. Its existence springs not from necessity but from possibility. What will you bring into being?