Eager soul starved so starved that being Soul it feeds on
Its eagerness and every dim shade that filters light
It catches in flashes and is moved to burn in action
As flaring momentary flashes like moths in flight
On a content night.
Where a drunken joy fights to break the heart's trap open
And run out amok as a wild forest fire free
And fling upon the winds all the care and all caution
And be lost in some stupendous and wild ecstasy
In rapt reflection.
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