In blackest night are scattered many small suns
Their gentle light guides, points me on my way.
Stripped of atmosphere's veil, the timid eye runs:
Flees radiation; yet stubbornly I stay.
Far too long has each steady star
Steered my course safe, through fear, doubt and strife
While I stayed distant, kept afar
Unable to repay this debt of life.
When turmoil to the heavens come
And shake thy stars from their accustomed spheres
Of these troubles, kindly tell me some
Perhaps my words can help to ease your fears.
When wanderers consent to share their guiding light
No longer do we suffer empty, lonesome flight.
