Within my brain resides my spirit self.
There is no way in which it may be seen,
Like some exhibit kept upon a shelf,
It leaves no evidence that it has been,
When, in response to order from beyond
Our universe, it moves to Group HQ;
Where it recalls and yet again responds
To previous lives and orders to renew
A gradual development, toward
An almost perfect state of holiness
Which, though not saintly, is a true reward
For understanding and for steadfastness.
Though long this journey has a blessed way
Of preparation for our final day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem