Without purpose, I am an empty shell

Every now and then my soul flies away from this body
     Can see the greater beyond
It obtains the brief ability to perceive the strife of humanity
     From a meeker depth of understanding

It no longer sees its bodily home as a mere organism
     But as a vehicle with which to transform darkness into light
To fulfill the calling of the Glorious One
     That to truly live, all must die to themselves and live for others

So I say now, “What is me? Who is this naive little girl?
     Who is living inside of this common creature of the earth?”
Not a thing called myself
     But, so divine, the Spirit of God Himself

What is there in the whole of the universe
     Deserving of more attention than He?
This pretense of understanding does not feign to know
     How one so simple is loved by One so extraordinary

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