I believe connections get made inside the making of a poem that have no explanation. They feel received, but the poem works on itself when the writer is otherwise occupied—call that what you will—and sometimes problems get solved or discoveries are made in a way that seems given. I like the idea of inspiration for its meaning of “breathed in.” Taking in what is around us. Being open to connections of thought and language. That’s what I’ve come to understand about my own “meddling.” When I go after the end of the poem too fast, I seem to cut off its air, or push it too far out of its time, and I have to put it away for months or years before I can look at it freshly.