There an ancient light, on a winter night,
on the high road across the mountains,
beyond the reach of fear, slowly drawing near,
the Spirits of Ice decending,
in the darkness, through the coldness, in the wilderness.

The mortal Earth below, in the deadly cold,
all surrounded in hidden forces,
with the groundwork laid, a million years they’d wait,
and still here the world is crying,
still it’s falling, never knowing, always reaching.

Day by day below locked in flesh and bone, the tides of fortune rising up and down
Who boldly higher goes with no support below? The double blade is spinning round and round.

In Wisdom, yes there is grief and in Knowledge there is sorrow
From him to whom much has been given much will be expected tomorrow.

Where is glory’s place? The fringes of disgrace, the tides of fortune rising up and down
All for survival rushed, idealism crushed, the double blade is spinning round and round.

What’s real is real, see what’s involved in being in existance
Not meant to harm, His groundwork and your freedom in the balance.

In Wisdom, yes there is grief and in Knowledge there is sorrow.
Just before you, this day is yours, it’s your real hope for tomorrow.