The crowd speaks more truly than they know, for the gods have come down in the likeness of men, and every person is one of them. You are a god who descended into flesh, wearing the form of a man, and imagination is the divine power you brought down with you. What the people saw as a wonder worked by another is the power that lives in each of them, unrecognized.
The mistake is to fasten this power on someone outside you, to make a distant figure the god and yourself only a watcher. The gods come down are not two visitors from elsewhere. They are what you are, buried in human form and about to rise again. The healing they marvel at is imagination doing what imagination does. When you stop crediting the wonder to another and know the descended god as yourself, the power you were staring at is the power you hold.