I. Prelude
Instrumental
II. Midnight Sun
Midnight Sun, I know you must be shining
Even as the mourning Mother turns her face
Heavy hangs our shame on the mantle of this moment
Oh, to rise and glimpse the dream above disgrace
Seasons turn, though winter's sad travailing
Rolls my ragged soul against the stone
And surely love, in silent, sleeping power
Will claim the crown and call the children home
If I had the view from Olympus
Where planets dance in God's eye
I know I'd see only beauty
But that hill is so hard to climb
If time, in all of her wisdom
Would lift me up to look below
I know that rest would come so easy
But it's hard to live with so much left unknown
Tower of every hope, You must be standing
Though the thunder and the smoke withold a sign
This path of paper lanterns spirals up to meet Your eyes
I believe the madness only masks design
Keeper of broken hearts, I know you've seen us
Through the tears of every eye that is our own
And I know that sacred flame waits to ignite, embrace, and lead us
And remind us we will never walk alone
If I had the view from Olympus
Where planets dance in God's eye
I know I'd see only beauty
But that hill is so hard to climb
If time, in all of her wisdom
Would lift me up to look below
I know that rest would come so easy
But it's hard to live with so much left unknown
III. The Gift of Time
Glorious, the years are glorious
And they give back just as much as all they take from us
And when the wheel comes 'round, I know I will be found
Beautiful, so bright and beautiful
Carried on the patient grace of every push and pull
And I won't count the cost to reclaim
The heart of all I lost
Wondrous, the world is wondrous
And there's beauty burning all around and inside of us
And the silver in the thunderstorm, you know
Is the flower of the field that waits to grow
Radiant, the future's radiant
And tomorrow sings of promise when our spirits can't
And there's a day that lies in wait to make things new
When it comes is really up to you
IV. Out of the Flood
Where questions burn and shadows fall
I know that fear can make a monster of us all
And when storms come that veil the stars
It's so easy to lose sight of who we are
Disfigured and afraid
In the panicked crimson glow
We weep and draw the blade
Terrified that we're alone
But we're not alone
Where ashes fly and burdens bind
The call may come to leave your innocence behind
But you can stand, you can defy
You can refuse to lose the love that's in your eyes
We strive not with the man
But the tyrant in his mind
That guides his trembling hand
And leaves the whole world blind
And I think it's time
The Earth is waking from her slumber
And passion pours out of the dream
The mountains shake with raptured thunder
And from the flood, we'll come out clean
There's a place that some call Heaven
You know it's here inside us now
And when we reach for every begging, bleeding hand
I think we'll understand
And learn to make it there somehow
Though its title probably owes more to the influence of Dante and C.S. Lewis, both of whom demonstrated a penchant for blending Greek mythological imagery and Christian theology that doubtless rubbed off on me as a young reader, The View From Olympus was primarily inspired by the work of the 20th century Jesuit priest, philosopher, geologist and anthropologist Pierre Teilhard De Chardin, who held that the process of biological evolution (as well as the development of civilizations, cultures, and technologies) is not random, but guided by an innate tendancy toward ever deepening, ever expanding, ever more sophisticated and interconnected levels of consciousness, which will eventually culminate in the union of all things with God in the "Cosmic Body of Christ" (it follows that the aforementioned Body has been - in some sense or another - our true Self from the beginning; a notion quite compatible with and comparable to teachings I would later encounter as I explored Vedanta and Zen Buddhism, though the language naturally differs).
This spiritual singularity, which he claimed was forshadowed in the person of Jesus and is made manifest in our daily lives through acts of selfless love, he dubbed "The Omega Point", and the bulk of his writings are dedicated to arguing that in spite of the immense suffering, division and ignorance that plagues the human condition, our innermost nature is divine and our arrival at this theorized point inevitable.
Teilhard De Chardin's life-affirming and distinctly humanist vision of reality as a universally redemptive work-in-progress lifted my spirits and opened my mind at a crucial time in my life. It was largely responsible for lifting me out of the depths of a deep depression, and it relieved me of a great deal of the existential angst I'd been wrestling with since adolescence, in ways the fearful, gloomy and frankly misanthropic dualism which haunted the theological framework of my Southern Baptist upbringing never could.
This song as a whole describes a sort of climactic point in my personal journey from despair to hope; a hope inspired by and endebted to Teilhard De Chardin's cosmic optimism. It rejects the cynical and nihilistic impulses (natural and understandable though they may be, given the turmoil around us) that lead to despair and insists that, despite all appearances to the contrary, there are powerful forces of healing and deep goodness at work in the world and in each one of us, whether we recognize and act in accordance with them or not.
The central message of VFO basically boils down to this: if we could escape the confines of our limited perception and understanding to see the big picture, we would behold a miracle unfolding. And though some of my beliefs have changed in the years that have transpired since I wrote the song, in many ways my belief in that miracle has remained unshaken.