Donalee says she’s one of God’s “peculiar treasures.”
And she is. Hat-wearing, dulcimer-playing poet,
mischieveously irreverant and devoutly reverant,
her heart, her soul and her God shining for all to see.
But, aren’t we all “peculiar treasures”?
Each of us crystalline snow-flakes, individual, distinct,
sculpted by a creative force with endless imagination?
Each of us an original work of art unlike any other?
So why do we put on our protective coloration?
Why do we hunker down under a bright reflective shield,
Hiding pieces of ourselves in the tall grass
Until we, too, forget our orange and purple spots?
The six-toed cat doesn’t worry about being queer.
Zebras don’t hide their stripes in thoroughbred envy.
Pandas don’t apologize for their fussy appetites.
And elephants don’t sign up for SlimFast meals.
Who told us we had to be perfect and why did we believe it?
Why do we spend our lives chasing perfection,
trying to fit in, longing to be normal, yearning to belong?
When did we forget our divine connection and source?
When did we forget that we are each “peculiar treasures?”