Guiding Light, the eye of space
Everywhere without a trace
Source of love and force of grace
Heart of hearts without a place
Head of heads without a face
Final judge in every case
Silently watching the human race:
I do not ask for your hidden ace
that´s out of reach for mankind´s pace,
and I need no consolation.

But whisper to me where I ought
to go, and give me food for thought.
I should be pure, but I am not.
So track down every ugly spot
and other weaknesses I´ve got,
Dump them all in a melting pot
and burn them where it´s dry and hot.
The debris of ashes must crumble and rot;
Otherwise, they´ll conspire a plot
to ruin my inspiration.

The age of man-made paradise
is an age of blindness in disguise.
A man with total trust in size
like jumbo jets across the skies
and everything else that money buys
may think that´s where his power lies;
But he´ll lose it all the day he dies,
because clever minds aren´t always wise.
So open up my ears and eyes
and keep me from illusion.

Those that serve you well emerge
far above our earthly dirge.
They hover around to constantly urge
us lower beasts to rise and purge;
And whenever we´re standing on the verge
of being consumed by an evil splurge,
We´re goaded by their merciless scourge;
And all creation must converge
to follow this powerful cosmic surge
or suffer dissolution.

Help me cope, and provide for my need,
But keep my hunger from growing to greed.
Sift the gems from what I plead.
Give strength to my immortal seed
and make it stand out from the weed;
Watch my steps and take the lead,
Guide my every thought and deed,
Tune my ears to careful heed,
Show me those that wither and bleed,
and help me guide them through the night.

Give me space to spread my wings
and soar above all trivial things,
leaving behind the phone that rings
the door that slams, and the wasp that stings,
joining the distant choir that sings
of vibrant love and eternal springs
where queens are queens and kings are kings
The source to which each life-form clings,
The pasture to which evolution brings
all atoms of dust to peace and light.

- Tarjei Straume, Phoenix 1980



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