Marvelous! I am pleased to know that I have not bored you with my long-winded explanation.
You ask, Does the spirituality version relate to the poetry version in your eyes?
I think that when we talk about poetry, feelings, thoughts and emotions, all come into play. When there are these factors, it is difficult to separate them from spirituality, which I consider intrinsically linked to those elements. Spirituality is the expression of the soul, and I consider poetry to be its language, whether it is rich in words and stylistic techniques, or whether it results in an abstraction and formulation of essential words.
After all, the first poem ever produced in the history of humankind is attributed to the ancient Sumerian priestess and princess Enheduanna who, by formulating prayers and poems to the goddess Inanna--in writing form for the first time--thus composed the first written poem in history.
As you see, poetry was first born as a song--the poetry of the beginning was sung, and with lyricism we refer precisely to its rhythm and musical aspect--of the soul and personal, but universal as resonance and as the essence of a spiritual expression towards the deity.
Even if I am not religious, and I don't believe in a specific god, I find in poetry the tool to express my belief in the universal energy that somehow connects us--in the end, we are atoms that collide, explode, unite with other atoms, both internal to us and external to us--So, any kind of poetry really does appear to me as a comprehensive, universal means (= for everyone) to express or welcome any kind of spirituality, emotion, belief, faith and thought.
For your second question, How I learned Hermetic poetry, here is my answer: Honestly, I'm not sure I can really interpret it best, but in consideration of its recognized characteristics, I sometimes delight in experiencing it. I do not deny that I first learned it at school, and then, I appreciated it even more at university, when in our Italian Literature course, the professor presented in his annual monographic section the poetry of Eugenio Montale (1975 Nobel Prize in Literature), especially his two collections "Cuttlefish Bones" and "The Occasions." Not to mention the poetry of Giuseppe Ungaretti, minimalist and influenced by Symbolism and Futurism. His most famous poem, which I learned for the first time in third year middle school, as well as the shortest ever, is "Mattina / Morning": "M'illumino d'immenso / I illuminate (myself) with immensity."
Hermetic poetry has always attracted me. The search for expression beyond phrases and descriptions has always fascinated me. I like the glance, the immediate reception, resonance of a whole reasoning reduced to the bone, to three or four words. Not to mention the possibility of estrangement from the social world to initiate the inner search for spiritual fulfillment.
In fact, I recognize that since adolescence I have always been attracted by epicurean concepts, by ataraxia, by living in constant moderation, avoiding unnecessary desires and eliminating the unhappiness caused by not achieving "vain" desires and wishes. Being "frugal" was for me the life and practical parallelism to the expressive production of Symbolism and Hermeticism. I saw all of these concepts as funneling toward one whole concept: the idea of simplicity as truth. Even though in the early days the Decadent French poets were my daily bread.
So I learned that removing actually adds; therefore, I began to really appreciate Hermeticism because it led me to avoid sloth--Dante considers it the worst of all sins of the soul--and the auto-indulgence of my sufferings, which the decadents had instead showed me.
https://raffaellaferretti.medium.com/abstraction-ccf64f2e8db3?sk=a35a1cb10297ffff1424456bddc2963f
And here I am, still experimenting today, trying to express my inner-self without causing pity in my reader.
