Disorderly enrichment

"a sound beyond any giving of the ear..."
Last week in class we heard Lace's backstory, and, along with what she said in her blog, it got me to thinking about disorder. The idea of disorder is conversely, as Stevens does, an idea of order.
As Stevens says in The Figure of Youth as a Virile Poet, "virtue in the midst of indulgence and order in disorder that is involved in the idea of virility." Disorder is simply another sense of arranging ideas and chaos, creating order. For example, when someone who's a synesthetic (involuntarily mixing their perceptive senses) then they have a "disorder," but this disorder is almost a learning method, and when used correctly in the imagination then the subject is more memorable by means of making, for example, a story more vivid and fantastic. Synesthesia is a conceptual tool we attempted to understand and even develop for Oral Traditions class because in the imagination we can transform the word "tree" into a yellow umbrella with orange "leaves" shaped as raindrops splashing the ponds of gray "grass" at the tree's base. Our previous idea of order, being a simple tree, becomes more unforgettable.
Bringing me back to Lace's story; In her blog she mentions that she does not enjoy reading poetry but very much likes writing it, which seems a bit odd (but oddly relatable, too). Not only that, but it got me thinking - and I'll rewrite this question straight out of my notebook:
When you cannot hear sound, but at one time could, would/does it become second nature for you to replace the them with pictures?
I thought this because when you're deaf then you cannot experience euphony, except in Lace's unique case those left existing inside your memory, but you can experience the beauty of sight. Do some words look prettier than others, and if so does that make them more prone to manifest in your mind as a picture? And if all is so then could this be a possible beginning for developing synesthetic traits?
Nextly, if Lace and probably most others in our class enjoys writing poetry then it's easier to visualize a setting and story with her own words on paper than to read those visuals, an act involving recreating the poet's vision via the sight and sound of their words.
Then again imagine having no ability to hear and you're sitting down reading some poem; Imagine, does this "disorder" force the mind to reorder and redistribute the sense of hearing into the other four senses, contributing to the difficulty in reading poetry? When reading rhyming does the sense of sight analyze an attribute which should be heard? It depends. Or, because I assume the experience changes altogether, does this make a difference? I'm not sure.
So I suppose what I thought about most is, in general, how is the beauty in poetry interpreted, understood, and appreciated on a macro level, and how can a Joe or Jane approach the best mindset when it comes to either reading or creating poetry?
Furthermore, does the suppression of sound make words appear more vivid or feel less rhythmic or vice versa or anything else? It could go any way.
Lastly, I can only imagine that Lace has reinvented herself, from her approach to life to her understanding for poetry, words, literature, speaking, music, etc. between her transcendence from an early audible life through her moment of silence all the way to her hearing's return. I can only imagine that this "disorder" has taken away some things but is mostly guilty of an utterly enriching contribution to a new idea of order.