The eternal and the insignificant

"I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.

The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.

I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,-and then
There interposed a fly,

With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see."

- Emily Dickinson

The first line of this poem has been lodged in my brain for two days now. Poems do that sometimes you know.
It compels me to remember that things of eternal import frequently occur simultaneously with those that appear insignificant or mundane. Dickinson, in juxtaposing these subjects, compels us to realize that so often we are distracted by the insignificant, while staring the eternal in the face.