"Fantastic to feel how my poem is growing
while I myself am shrinking.
It's getting bigger, it's taking my place,
it's pressing against me.
It has shoved me out of the nest.
The poem is finished."
Every writer and painter knows when the work takes control and pushes the artist out of the picture. We are simply vessels through which creativity flows. The muses are in charge and are dictating their visions. Have you learned how to give up control and let the creative spirit flow through you?
Here is a poem by Tomas Transtromer, the 2011 Nobel Prize winner for Literature.
2 A.M.: moonlight. The train has stopped
out in a field. Far off sparks of light from town,
flickering coldly on the horizon.
As when a man goes deep into his dream
he will never remember that he was there
when he returns again to his room.
Or when a person goes so deep into a sickness
that his days all become some flickering sparks, a swarm,
feeble and cold on the horizon.
The train is entirely motionless.
2 o'clock: strong moonlight, few stars.
(by Tomas Transtromer
Translated by Robert Bly)