I picked a flower just the other day,
As I made my way pass the fence line.
It was different now than then.
The barbed-wire fence all rusted and fallen, blended with the winters leaves.
I stepped over what at one time I leaped.
I made my way into the big dark forest.
What seemed once to be a days journey into the unknown proved to be just a few steps from what was most familiar.
There they were all gathered in pods...the first signs of reprieve from a long hard winter.
They were ablaze with color in a place that seemed to had been previously muted from life.
As I paused they told a story.
I found them first when I was a little child.
Each spring I was drawn back to the mystery of a few blooming daffodils.
It's been decades now since I last made the pilgrimage.
Yet something drew me into the woods just the other day.
I took a moment to take them in while memories all danced in my head.
I bowed for a moment as I plucked them as before.
I placed them in a vase near the sink where my mother had washed her hands countless times before.
This time was different or was it?
From heaven she peeked and she smile the same as before.
What's in a daffodil?
You tell me...this I know a lot more than before!
David Putman is founder of PTG and a Lead Navigator for Auxano.