I cannot say, “It will happen,” because poetry cannot be predicted. If you predict it, again the mind will start functioning and waiting and trying and doing something about it. No, you completely forget about it. It may take months, it may take years, it may take your whole life, but some day, if you have really completely forgotten your identification, you will become the medium. Something will flow through you. It will come through you, but it will be of the beyond. Then you will be a watcher, a witness to it. You won’t be a poet, you will be a witness. And when it is born, a different quality of being will come in its wake. That’s what a poet is. All great poets are humble, they don’t claim.
The Upanishads are not even signed – nobody knows who wrote them. The greatest of poetry, and the poets have not even tried to sign it; they have not left their signatures. That would have been profane. They have left it, they have not claimed. They were just vehicles.
A real poet is a vehicle, a medium. That’s why I praise poetry so much – because it is very close to meditation, very close to religion – the closest neighbor. The politician works with the practical, the scientist with the possible, the poet with the probable, and the mystic with the impossible. The probable is the closest neighbor of the impossible – that’s why I praise poetry.
But when I praise poetry, I am not praising your poets. Ninety-nine percent of them are just writing junk. They are doing a mind thing, an ego-trip. They manage, that’s all – but poetry doesn’t come through them.
You can write poetry. Technically it may even be correct, but it may be dead. Sometimes it happens that a poem is technically not correct, but it is alive. Who bothers about whether a thing is technically correct or not? The real thing is whether it is alive or not.
If you are going to become a mother, would you like a child who is technically correct, but dead? A plastic child: technically, absolutely right; you cannot find a fault…. In fact, if you want technically correct human beings, then only plastic beings are possible, only they can be absolutely correct. A real, alive child has so many defects – bound to be so, because life exists in danger and death. Only a dead thing is out of danger. Life is always a hazard: there are a thousand and one difficulties to be crossed, riddles to be solved. The very phenomenon that life exists is a miracle, with so many imperfections….
Life is imperfect because life is a growing phenomenon. Anything that is growing will be imperfect, otherwise how will it grow? Anything that is perfect is already dead: it is good for the grave – you cannot do anything else with it.
Ninety-nine percent of your poets are just writing junk; they give birth to dead children. Sometimes – and only sometimes, rarely – a poet is there. And whenever such a phenomenon as the poet exists – which is a miracle on this earth – just next to him is the mystic. One step more and he will become a mystic. If the poet tries to be on his wings a little more, he will become a mystic. And if the mystic, in his compassion, descends a step towards you, he will become a poet.
Poetry is a communication of the mystery of life. Unless you have felt it, how can you communicate? Poetry is a relationship between you and the whole. Something transpires between the drop and the ocean, between the leaf and the tree. Something transpires between the whole and the part, and the part starts dancing. The part is so overflowing with joy that it sings…so delighted that its movements become poetic. It no longer walks on the earth – it flies.