Spirituality fascinates as an abstract subject

and as a phenomenon

because it can be talked about.

You can speak volumes on it.

You can pontificate.

It has been much reduced to writing.

Organization has presumed to corral it into fundament.

Men have presumed to understand it.

It has been co-opted into organized practice

to no apparent avail

save faith.

It is the learnéd subject of academies of men of loftiest celestial presumptions.

It is imparted, bestowed.

It is culturally appropriated.

It is mansplained

as tenet, doctrine, dogma, orthodoxy.

Or gotten all zen with

holding a flower.

Yet the thing about it is the incomprehensibility, the incommunicability.

In practice it is impractical

elusive

ever now ever not

ever nothing

much ado.

Many live by it.

None experience it

[knowingly].

It is quiet.  As soundless as a black hole.

Noisy as Om light energy too.

Nowhere.

Everywhere.

Directionless