Some Mystical Poetry Notes

About a month ago, an interest in writing poetry began to rekindle itself here. It’s not as if it had completely disappeared because it always smolders. But the urge was again being felt. Interestingly enough, soon after this recognition, some remarkable quotes were discovered in an article ‘Poetry and Wisdom’ by Bruno Barnhart (which is worth reading in itself) and were duly posted on the tumbler ‘son rivers not 2’ quotes and links blog. But they should really be here, with some discussion, and that’s the reason for this post.

The first quote is from Bede Griffiths (from Pathways to the Supreme):

Both poetry and mysticism spring from the depths of the soul beyond the senses, but whereas the poet seeks to embody his experience of this inner mystery in words and images, the mystic seeks to go beyond word and thought to experience the hidden mystery from which all words and thoughts are derived.

There is a nice sense of the source here, but I question the either/or. Embodiment is an integral part of the mystical process. In the beginning, Nisargadatta would call it the test. In the end, who knows?

The next quote is by Jacques Maritain from his book, ‘creative intuition in art an poetry’:

Poetic experience brings the poet back to the hidden place, at the single root of the powers of the soul, where the entire subjectivity is, as it were, gathered in a state of expectation and virtual creativity. Into this place he enters, not by any effort of voluntary concentration, but by a recollection, fleeting as it may be, of all the senses, and a kind of unifying repose which is like a natural grace, a primordial gift, but to which he has to consent, and which he can cultivate, first of all by removing obstacles and silencing concepts….In such a spiritual contact of the soul with itself, all the sources are touched together, and the first obligation of the poet is to respect the integrity of this original experience. Any systematic denial of any of the faculties involved would be a sort of self-mutilation. Poetry cannot be reduced to a mere gushing forth of images separated from intelligence, any more than to a discursus of logical reason…

There is so much mystical intelligence in this quote that it’s worth rereading and rereading. It is more a spiritual practice. After all, “removing obstacles and silencing concepts” is what it’s all about. There is still a dual presence here but poetry almost demands that paradox (Merton will address that later). But there is a unitive consciousness as well where “the integrity of this original experience” is recognized, and from that recognition arises a nondual intelligence that Whitman alludes to in a more mystical manner (unfortunately Maritani’s walk does not exactly match his talk when lecturing): “Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes...?” Whitman understands it is impossible to “cipher and show me to a cent, / Exactly the contents of one, and exactly the contents of two, and which is ahead.” No, the answer comes: see and accept all equally and then write the poem.

The last quote is from Thomas Merton:

Poetry can, indeed, help to bring us rapidly through that early part of the journey to contemplation that is called active; but when we are entering the realm of true contemplation, where eternal happiness is tasted in anticipation, poetic intuition may ruin our rest in God “beyond all images.”

Now this is a much different intelligence speaking. Merton is truly the mystic and understands the sacrifice involved in the act of mystic poetry. It's not exactly the either/or that Griffiths speaks to, but an all or nothing. Poetry can be a help in the beginning, where the process is still active or dual. But what of true contemplation, true meditation, where thoughts and images interfere with the taste of the absolute? Barnhart writes and quotes:

Having faithfully established the principle, however, Merton turns from this vision of an unforgiving straight ascent toward spiritual repose, to imagine several different possible ‘vocations,’ among them that “a man should remain at the same time a mystic and a poet and ascend to the greatest heights of poetic creation and of mystical prayer without any evident contradiction between them.”

Merton’s essay (Poetry and Contemplation: A Reappraisal) would need to be read in its entirety before an intelligent comment on Merton’s conclusion can be made, but it does raise an interesting query. But I would conclude that writing poetry is another form of chopping wood and carrying water: there is something in the survival process that requires words as well as tea. Call it the Bodhisattva Call.