So, you write this...poetry? Is it all yours?

Once they leave my mind, they've always been.
They're not visions that only I've seen.
Neither strings of letters, nor clusters of words,
encage that which is more free than birds.

They're no more mine than the falling rain
that soothes, inspires, and moves on to the sea.
But they come through me with labour, pain,
love and blessings, and abundant energy...

Or is it the 'I' that passes through them all?
As they stand still throughout eternity.
These Themes, new 'realizations' of a 'soul',
of the same old Truths, and their harmony.