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?​