Just as the novel has an affinity for the political but is not required to encompass the political, the poem has an affinity for philosophy but is not required to appeal to or include the philosophical. The writer has choices.
In fact, you are free to ignore me on the subject of the poetical/philosophical. One of the strongest passages to writing a good — or, as Harold Bloom likes to say, strong — poem is to name objects. Naming is not exactly the same as description: I’m speaking of solid names for solid things. Read Seamus Heaney, especially his famous poem “Digging,” and you will see how this works, how it plugs us into reality and astounds us as we make that connection with wood, water, fire, and air. We believe we are aware of the world but, stand on it though we do, we find ourselves separated from it and wanting to draw closer. This is why explorers head off for far parts, or climb Mount Everest, or search the sea for previously unseen underwater phenomena. It’s not simply curiosity, although curiosity is a mighty mobilizer, urging us to learn as much as possible. There is another component, and it is love. We love our planet (well, Donald Trump doesn’t, but most of us do). We have a planet that offers us a lot of what we need, and most of us know it is urgent that we save our planet from influence that corrodes the careful conservations scientists have sought to keep in place. More… “Poetry’s Affinity for Philosophy”