"Kneeling, I kindle the fire 'gainst the draft,
Hands hovering, gliding
Spiders, pale, over the hearth,
When suddenly, the Moon leans down from her eastern perch,
Wandering, paler still, between the columns,
As if to inquire:
"Was it not enough, the light that I gave you,
Though the Sun itself burned through me?"
Setting: Antiquity, some temple late at night. :-)
It's utterly random, but I have similar thoughts when I listen to music while taking walks, as if I were rejecting the beautiful sounds of leaves, birds, etc., and sometimes pure silence that surround me, a sadness and frustration at depriving myself of them, and the profound peace I have experienced in allowing their spell to calm my mind.