The more I think about psychotherapy, the more I see room for poetry in it. In a world of literalism (and literalism is always based on an individual judgement–), in the world where we communicate with short text and images “to the point” (when the more precise we are, the more insecure we are becoming whether others really understand us–), poetry gives us room to breathe, to look at feelings, emotions and thoughts without fear, to be alone without fear of being excluded.
When I was in my late teens, I read poetry and interpreted in on stage, even with little success I dare say– I remember that in high school I used to spend hours working on the interpretation of poems, especially free verse poems, studying hidden meanings according to my choice of accentuation and punctuation. I used to record my various interpretations on a tape, listen to them and chose those that, in my opinion, corresponded best to my understanding of the poem. I didn’t think much about “what the poet had in mind”. Rather, I thought about what I had in mind when I say his/her/their words, what feelings are activating inside me, what feelings I want my audience to feel.
Then I forgot about poetry for 30 long years– Then, poetry found me, in the person of a bard who lives for poetry and music. So, I started to rebuild my long-lost acquaintance with poetry, shyly, getting to know her again in my older age (how difficult it is!), re-learning how to deal with feelings without the protective armor of the intellect–
To experience poetry means to enter a zone of vulnerability, to enter a space when one meets oneself in the world and meets the world as it is, and to understand that one is… the world. 
Helena Bohnam Carter interpreting “The Guest House” by Rumi, a 13th-century Muslim poet, mystic, theologian, and scholar