I struggle with the idea;

I am not consciously trying to be my best self

Procrastination is my motto

My best self seems intangible and distant

Will it be fleeting when I‘m there?

Will God take me at the moment I am my best self?

Pick me when I am blossoming beautifully

What if I never do?

My own neglect might render me a useless unopen bud

Would God want me then?

Perhaps he uses buds as the filler for his beautiful bouquets

One can hope and pray

My goal before death; be more than filler, BLOOM