How good it would be to be lost again
Night falling on the compass, and the map
Turning to improbable flames
Bright ashes going out in the ponds.
And how good it would be
to stand bewildered in a strange wood
Where you are the loudest thing
Your heart making a deafening noise.
And how strange when your fear of being lost has subsided
To stand listening to the frogs holding
Their arguments in the stream
Condemning the barbarous herons.
And how right it is
To shrug off real and invented grief
As of no importance
To this moment of your life,
When being lost seems
So much more like being found
And you find all that is lost
Is what weighed you down. whats the main idea and analysis this poem?