However, I learned something. I thought that if the young

O seekers of wisdom, hear the words of Norman MacCaig, whose reflections on the nature of poetry and its role in the lives of the young hold deep truths: "However, I learned something. I thought that if the young person, the student, has poetry in him or her, to offer them help is like offering a propeller to a bird." In these words, MacCaig speaks of the profound nature of poetry as an innate gift, one that cannot be artificially shaped or driven by external forces. If a young person has the essence of poetry within them, no external force, no "help," can truly take them further; the poetry itself is their guiding spirit, and they must learn to soar on their own.

In the ancient world, poetry was seen as something divine, something bestowed upon the poet by the gods. The Greek poets spoke of the Muses, the goddesses who inspired poets to speak and write. Homer, Hesiod, and the other bards did not claim ownership over their words—they believed that the Muses spoke through them, guiding their pen and shaping their verse. Just as a bird is born with wings that need no propeller to fly, so too the poet is born with the innate ability to craft poetry, an ability that cannot be taught, only discovered and nurtured. MacCaig, like the ancient poets, understood that poetry is an expression of something deeper within the soul, something that cannot be artificially created or imposed.

Consider the story of Rainer Maria Rilke, the great poet who, in his Letters to a Young Poet, urged the young to look inward, to trust in their own experiences and instincts, rather than seek external validation or rigid instruction. Rilke believed that the true poet must find their own voice, their own path, and that no teacher or external force can give them that essential spark of creation. He famously wrote, "You must change your life," suggesting that the poet's journey is one of personal discovery, not one that can be guided entirely by the hands of others. In this way, Rilke echoed MacCaig's belief that poetry cannot be forced—it is an inherent gift that must be allowed to unfold naturally, like a bird learning to fly without the need for artificial aid.

MacCaig’s metaphor of the propeller and the bird speaks to the nature of creativity itself. A bird, by its very essence, is designed to fly. No machine can replace the natural grace and instinct that guide its wings. Likewise, poetry comes from a place of deep instinct and inner truth—it is not something that can be propelled from the outside. While external guidance, encouragement, and mentorship are important, the true act of creating poetry must come from within. The young poet must learn to trust their own voice, their own vision, and not rely solely on the guidance of others to give them wings. MacCaig recognizes that there is a limit to the assistance that can be given; once the poetry is in the heart, it must take flight on its own.

In the life of William Blake, we see a powerful example of the tension between external guidance and internal creation. Blake was often ridiculed by his contemporaries for the intensity and mysticism of his poetry. He was a visionary, driven not by the conventional rules of poetry but by a deep, personal connection to the divine. Blake’s poetry was uniquely his own, guided by visions and experiences that no one could have taught him. Yet, throughout his life, he remained committed to his vision, disregarding the norms of society and the rules of poetry. His journey was one of self-discovery, much like the bird finding its wings in the sky, and in doing so, he created works that have endured for centuries.

MacCaig’s words remind us of the importance of nurturing young talent, but also of recognizing that the creative spirit cannot be confined or controlled. Teachers, mentors, and those who offer help must understand that the true artist must eventually find their own way. The best way to assist the young poet, the young artist, is not to impose rigid structures or expectations, but to provide space for their innate abilities to flourish. Just as a bird needs open skies to learn to soar, so too must the young poet be allowed to explore, to fail, and to discover the boundaries of their own creativity.

Thus, O children of wisdom, let us take this lesson to heart: we must not seek to control or confine the creative spirit within us or others. Poetry is a gift, a force that comes from deep within the soul, and like a bird with wings, it must be allowed to fly on its own. Mentorship and guidance can provide support, but they must not stifle the natural growth of the poet’s voice. Trust in your own instincts, believe in the innate power of your own creativity, and know that the true path to artistic greatness lies not in external forces, but in the unfolding of your own soul. Let the poetry come from within, and it will take flight like the bird soaring into the sky.