Those whose souls aren't stirred by -
The pleasant and slightly unsettling fragrance of fresh earth
The cold enveloping light of the moon
The delicious warmth of a light breeze on a hot summer's day

And when I say stirred,
I don't just mean some passing feeling
I mean that joyful painful yearning from the bottom of your soul 
That spreads through your whole being and consumes you 
For that moment - however brief, 
Of spiritual bliss, if you will.

And when it passes, 
You are not the same you 
From a few seconds or minutes ago

You are the earth, 
The moon, the breeze
The pain, the joy 
The moment.