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
