Poetry is sane because it floats easily in an infinite sea; reason seeks to cross the infinite sea, and so make it finite. The result is mental exhaustion. To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything a strain.
— G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

And here is where I find relief and even reason to rest in mystery. Instead of straining after the logic behind prayer or hunting down a neat agenda behind God's infinite plan, we can float. We can accept the smallness of our reason against eternity and let poetry - mystery - exist.