Daffodil Meditation

I fell asleep last night to the sounds of a thunderstorm.

The birds woke me at dawn; the rains had stopped for awhile.

I quickly dressed. The hour for morning daffodil meditation had come.

I gathered the downed daffodils, remembering the first bulbs I planted thirty years ago.
I reflected on prosperity, how the laws of multiply and divide had filled the gardens with thousands of flowers.

I gazed at each flower I cut, looking deeply into the cups and trumpets.

"Hello!"