Being a poet is akin to being a sculptor standing before a block of marble. They can see the truth inside, but must chisel away until they find the structure within. When poets write, they write from a life of experiences, and from those must find the one that wants to be given form. But! The poem does not allow itself to be crafted completely in the moment but instead provides an armature on which to attach words, and words having been attached, the poet needs to look at what is and chisel away the dross and seek more deeply the poem within. Armature created (by whose hand?), the bits and pieces arise from the library of life, and then the poet, having recognized a bit of theme, continues to chisel until the poem, not the poet, decides it is done, reserving the right, at some future time to be pruned here, grafted there (yes, the metaphors seem to be mixed right now, but the poet can see the truth in both to create the whole of the purpose for this writing). So, a poet is a sculptor and a gardener, and through that symbiosis is a poem breathed into life.