The best poems reflect our union with the Creator God, in that God, an Aesthete, produced a creation that generates its own coherent logic but remains capable of transcendence—miracles, salvation. Poems that are more than technically excellent, that have real spiritual weight and urgency, move toward the anagogical or epiphanic, often apocalyptic, a rushing-upward, a threshold at which you cross into splendor and awe, or even annihilation itself. These poems practically seem to defy their own terms, but it is because, in the setup of their terms, you can see a faith-quotient, meaning that built into their rationale is an acknowledgement that some things cannot be contained by the terms of their reasoning, one thing that doesn't make sense without some type of senseless redemption (and redemption is senseless, in that way: based on who we are and how we live, none of us should be salvageable). To be clear, a poem need not have God or faith as its subject matter for this to be true; and if you are not a person of Christian faith then you can replace these notions about God with secular notions of truth, ontology, metaphysics, etc. But the best poems are objects that make, as in create, sense, and contend in unwavering voice with the truth, which requires that something universal and simple be transposed into very particular terms that could only ever arrive where they do.