A poet was once reading a very deep poem, a symbolical poem, written by a friend of his. And when he saw his friend he said, "What a wonderful poem! I was so impressed by its symbology. Will you explain to me what you meant by this line?" And the poet looked at him and said, "Really, I cannot tell myself what it means." When a poet writes mystical poetry and he himself is unconscious of his mysticism, then this mind must be a machine. Indeed, an obsessed poet can do this; but then it is some other poet who composes and he is only the pen. The poet writes what his soul dictates, and he writes according to the evolution of his soul.