Tor Magnor Solvang

The stars are scattered, dust of light,
Across a velvet, endless night.
A universe so vast and deep,
Where secrets sleep, and planets keep
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Sixty-six stories, a river so wide,
One message whispers, deep inside.

From Eden's dawn to Heaven's bright door,
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From cradle small to final rest,
A lesson learned, a constant quest.
Life's gentle school, where we all grow,
A winding path, both high and low.
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A whispered word, on Patmos' shore,
John saw a King, forevermore.

Not just a past, a story told,
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A truck driver named Larry, bold and bright,
Had a dream that took flight, a funny sight.
A lawn chair, balloons, forty and five,
He thought he'd gently rise, just to thrive.
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The quiet house, a gentle space,
Just me and time, at my own pace.
No voices raised, no need to plead,
To plant a thought, or sow a seed.
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The Tule Eaters, Si-Te-Cah,
Red hair bright, a tribe of war.
Paiute stories, passed down deep,
Of giants tall, secrets they keep.
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The ship is steady, for years I've steered,
Know every current, calm and feared.
My patterns woven, strong and deep,
A life I built, the secrets keep.
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The game's a blur, you don't know why,
Just move the pieces, 'til you die.
No joy, no spark, just going through,
The motions, tired, and feeling blue.
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One man stands, he holds the reins,
An autocrat, in sun and rain.
He says the word, and things are done,
His power is vast, for everyone.
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When death arrives, don't hide in dread,
Don't let your heart be filled with lead.
Let not your spirit shrink and cower,
Because your ending's drawing power.
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A mind that drifts, a heart that sighs,
Can't just sit still beneath the skies.
The hands must move, the spirit leap,
From slumber deep, from shadows sleep.
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The Beatles sang of a swirling ride,
Helter Skelter, side to side.
A simple song, a joyful sound,
But darkness gathered all around.
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August '69, a field of green,
A promise whispered, a hopeful scene.
Fifty thousand, they thought would come,
But hearts arrived, a beat like a drum.
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Tiny hands, soft and small,
Reach to touch, to hold it all.
Clay so cool, a gentle squeeze,
Building dreams with happy ease.
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The bottle calls, a lonely fight,
Some cling so tight, with all their might.
'My life, ' they say, 'I choose my way, '
But darkness grows with each new day.
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Words like honey, sweet and bright,
They say them softly, day and night.
But in their eyes, a distant gleam,
A hollow echo, like a dream.
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I like the sun, but choose my shade,
A gentle friend, not one to invade.

I'm not a hermit, locked away,
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The mountains rise in Peru so high,
More than just rocks against the sky.
They're Apus, spirits, old and deep,
Guardians watching, while we sleep.
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By my fjord's green edge, a rock is my seat,
Norway's beauty, so bittersweet.
Midnight sun, a gentle hand,
Touching horizon, sea, and land.
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