I think spirituality is about the weak forces connecting things. Not the strong forces, like causation, through which things are related as objects of force, but the weak forces like affinity, association, patterning without an identifiable underlying mechanism. Syntax is a strong force, a law of language; rhyme is a weak force, associating words and phrases on the basis of mostly-accidental resemblance. Mostly but not entirely: the soundings of language aren't completely arbitrary after all, but record traces of etymology ("record" and "accord" both build on "cor", "heart") and the onomatopoeia of a shared sound-world. The spiritual isn't empty vapour, it's an ether through which associations pass. Dense in places, the faintest whisp in others.
In a world with few strong forces, without Newtonian mechanics, the domain of the spiritual is vast, enclosing. In our world, scientific knowledge of physical causation, and techno-scientific organisation of relations of production, mean we are caught in a net of strong forces. The spiritual is fugitive, drifting through the gaps. There is a tremendous desire to escape, somehow, back into its element; to imagine without constraint. But strong forces also bring security, predictability. Immature souls imagine spiritual connections as themselves strong forces, as if mastery of a language of suggestion would grant a measure of defence against contingency. Your horoscope predicts nothing; it is an imaginative probe, not a working model of fate.