I believe that there are many people who believe in magic. Not the Harry Potter stuff but the magic that accompanies that sense of awe we often experience when we are confronted by the true magnificence of the world. Magic is a good term because, at those moments, the reality of the world appears inexplicable. At such moments, the informed words of scientists and researchers seem futile and unconvincing. Poetic faith arises out of a sense of oneness with nature. Science breaks apart oneness. Poetic faith comes from a poetic spirit. A poetic spirit is a state of mind, (it is not necessarily related to a person’s aptitude to write or read poetry). It is not an encounter with verse that creates a poetic spirit but an encounter with the magic of experience.
The poetic spirit sews brokenness together and sees meaning and harmony in places where others see only chaos. It can do this because the poetic spirit occupies the present moment and does not lose itself in abstract ideas about past and future. It does not look around and see memories and possibilities, rather it sees into and beyond surface reality. Its vision penetrates deeper to the layers of meaning that exist beyond language and concept. When poetic faith sees this, it imagines it has seen a glimpse of God, (or the Ultimate or the Absolute…) Poetic faith sees the magic of existence at the depth of experience and calls it divine.
And that is it. There is nothing more. As soon as wordless reality is experienced, words and ideas invade to formulise, categorise and break down all aspect of the experience. And then the experiencer is left with doubt. To pass it on, to share that moment, the experience will need to be broken down further. Then it is lost to the bare bones of memory. The skills of the writer-poet may help her/him to describe the moment better than most. Can words alone induce an experience beyond words? I’m not sure. I certainly do not have the creative skills to do that.