I often feel as though there is "something" which feeds, directs, and helps me to make sense of the poems I write. I hesitate to nail this down too tightly because the very idea of the muse, of having a muse, is a wonderfully romantic and ethereal thing.
There had been times when I found myself in a great struggle for control over a work in process. I had chosen the words, and carefully plotted their course, only to see them dash against the rocks and fly apart.
It took me a while, as I groped my way along in my early years of my writing, to relinquish some amount of control to that "something," until I almost wondered whether the poem was destined to simply write itself.
Eventually, I came upon a sort of truce with my "muse." Now, instead of a battle there is a kind of collaboration I've learned to listen for subtle nuances and unexpected turns that I might have otherwise overlooked.
Whether there actually are "muses" or no, what I now experience while writing goes well beyond merely taking dictation. As a poet, I get to be both plotter of the course, and ever curious about what lies ahead a the poem.