To pick or pick not.

At the center of my crossroads grows a daisy. I want it.
and want to be it.

The wind blows and it waves.

I so desire to be the flower. I even strive to be like it in this form of flesh and bones. And that doesn't mean just waving in the wind without purpose.

The flower has more directed purpose than I've ever had, or have ever seen in another human being. Every single day of it's life it strives with all of it's might towards the sun.

The result of this stretching is creation itself. It is magic in a land of rules and walls.

When i strive with every breath I take, with great directed purpose towards that which nourishes me I grow. And who I was just a moment before dies away.

I drop this old shed skin when I rest; when I allow my body to fully exhale and let go.
If I do not rest- I carry around this shell of my former self with me everywhere i go. And my old perceptions linger and haunt me like ghosts.

Someday will be my last. And on that day I want to breath my final breath while striving with all my heart towards the sun as I lay my body down. Otherwise, I might collapse prematurely by the weight of all the dead flowers.

And so I will leave the daisy today to pay homage to it's singular beauty. I want to symbolize it's message of peace.

But deep down I know that tomorow may be another story. I will strive. And i will strive to be less distracted... and to remember to strive.

I know another daisy will wave again at me. And the thought will arise...

"It's much easier to remember the daisy when there's one in your hand"

I will be reminded that am only human. And as long as I walk this path I will most again find my self at a crossroad again wondering... to pick or pick not.

That is the question.