The Gift Box

I was handed a beautiful gift box On my twentieth birthday. A bold scripted message was waving me to the right. It was beautiful! The gift box sat proudly, Covered with designer wrapping paper, Topped with strawberry pink and white ribbons Throughout the party. In solitude, I tore open the wrapper, with strawberry pink and white ribbons and exclaimed at the rare velvet box. It was green, not red and I loved it. But wait, there was more, a tiny, fragile, precious stone! I sighed, “Alas no one could see that at the party.” For everyone was busy admiring the wrapping paper. The metaphor hits hard. The clothes we wear Defines the ‘velvet box’ Not the precious stone, the divine soul.