Whenever I think I've "caught" the Spirit in anything,
Whatever "the thing" was dies
You see, the Spirit is a being that will not be contained
It is best observed in its elusion
It is most at rest in its pursuit
It is fully seen as a flickering glimpse in the far corners of our sight
It is understood only when its mystery dances tauntingly above our intellect
It is captured only when it is just beyond our ever-reaching grasp
The Spirit is the fiery stallion that, dancing wild and free,
Will trample the cage of the mind
And set ablaze the mountainous plains of the heart and soul
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