You must give birth to your images, they are the future waiting to be born. 
Just as the unborn child will not tarry when its time has finally arrived; nor can the artist, the writer, the poet, the musician, the mystic, or the prophet. Speaking in the imperative, Rilke emphasizes, “You must give birth to your images.” Not when you’re feeling like it, or when the occasion seems right. Not when others dictate the appropriate time.
But what if the future isn’t necessarily completely out of our hands? What if images and ideas; plans, and proposals; and even dreams and visions, are not only conceived within imagination’s interior but nourished and incubated in a process of growth and maturation? What if our individual and collective future(s) are far more akin to pregnancy and birthing than we allow for?
With uncertainty overwhelming our capacity to cope and teetering on the point of exhaustion, Rilke counsels, “”Fear Not the strangeness you feel… Just wait for the birth, the hour of new clarity.” When normality has fled and you find yourself submerged in darkness, hang on to the transparency that can usher in the new. Focus instead on the impending birth.
In this Season of Advent, when obscurity clouds our thinking and fear has the upper hand, fill us with expectation, Divine Maker, as we await the hour of new clarity. “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son given. And his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” Amen. 
 Rainer Maria Rilke
 Isaiah 9:6