A couple weeks ago, a discussion about poetry got me thinking about what poetry is exactly. There is, I agree, a certain sense of recognition. That's half of it. I guess for me it's also a question of rhythm. Some poems or their rhythm or something will get in my head and once inside, it's usually rather difficult shake off. I'm not really sure why that happens, it just does.
Like this, for example.
When the green field comes off like a lid
Revealing what was much better hid:
And look, behind you without a sound
The woods have come up and are standing round
In deadly crescent.
(from W.H. Auden, "The Two")
I don't know why it got stuck in my head, but reading the whole poetry discussion, I remembered it, and felt compelled to go look it up.
Honestly, as a former literature major I've often had to analyze things in great detail. While I probably gained a lot of insight from the process, it took a lot of the magic out of things. Knowing the why and the how usually do. I never really studied English (language) poetry, and I'm really glad, actually. So I can just say, poetry is just magic, simple as that.