doesn't always seem important

it doesn't always come as a stranger hands you a piece of paper

doesn't always come as a ring on your finger

doesn't always come as a hand is placed on a rock, the ascent

to the summit you've been staring at for years--

being part of something important

comes sometimes as the globe rolls slowly to it's side,

yawning. 

you wander along in a desert

and the stars drop off and the sun motions to salute

the morning; pressing off the body of mountains-

witness to yourself arising to newness-

the ongoing story of the universe

and the sentence you write

with your life