To what service is my soul committed each morning and night, a question trembles gently never fully going away
To what service is my soul committed each morning and night, amid duties and distractions asks with gentle might
To what service is my soul committed each morning and night, the mirrors I avoid still whisper truths I’ve long concealed…
What mission have you married your soul unto it repeats again, reflect not what I do, but what I am within this life
What mission have you married your soul unto it repeats again, when I say I love justice, do I defend the weak at cost
What mission have you married your soul unto it repeats again, or has the comfort I have built become the true thing I’ve lost?
Whose soul are you living with inside your head, living not by truth, but appearances and schemes
Whose soul are you living with inside your head, And I wonder, if I stripped it all—fame, status, and control
Whose soul are you living with inside your head, would there be anything left that still resembled soul and not my own divine spark…
What are you doing, and is the reason right, tasks fill the hours and routines shape the day from the reason they’re begun
What are you doing, and is the reason right, but have I ever stopped to wonder why I move this way
What are you doing, and is the reason right, now a deeper wind returns to nudge me toward the light where vision is merely motion at best…
I own a compass buried deep beneath the world’s commands,
It pulses when I listen and it shakes inside my hands
Each choice I make, each word I say, rewrites my sacred map
It’s not in joy, but in unease that truth tends to arise
