Purpose

Purpose feels like a gift

Sitting unwrapped beneath the Christmas tree.

The best part is that it’s free-

Something we are innately born with.

It rests tucked inside our bones and blood vessels.

We know it’s there,

Even if it can’t be seen.

Our minds gently touch the corners of it,

Poking and prodding,

Feeling the crinkles and folds

Until they smooth out.

Then we can read the writing on the page

And begin to know it.

We listen to it like an old friend

Until it rises to the forefront of our mind.

Only then can we truly discover

Our purpose.