Goethe In Dormition Poem by Morgan Michaels

Wine, women, song,
the laws are long
dry and learned beside these-
What best becomes a man?
Well, both, in kind.
One could revel in evil
eat, drink, fornicate,
so long as in the soul's shrine
Purity's flame burns;
If, refusing to abate
even in the darkest night.
Even through the wildest storm;
Or in the face
of the singlest distress
the inextinguishable flame
which bears the name
of goodness,
chief delight of men, burns on:
felt without as from within.
precious goodness that goes floating ships.
For so long as one may grasp the coal
sizzling in the soul
one may cleanse the world, no?
its often soiled lips
in between such sips
of wine, women, song
their eyes that love the light
and love, no less, the darkness, bright,
therefore seize the day:
Times's ribbon runs away
Never returning to the spool.