Parable Of Five Stones Poem by Sonny Rainshine

His son, eight years old,
held out his perfect hand
in which lay five perfect stones
that he had gathered from the river bank.

This one (a purple one) is an amethyst,
he said.
This one (a white one) is a diamond,
he said.
This one (a red one) is a ruby,
he said.
This one (a green one) is an emerald,
he said.
This one (a blue one) is a sapphire,
he said.

Ah, what beautiful stones,
the father exclaimed, but they are
not gems, not jewels.

But, the boy said,
they are. Jewels are beautiful.
Jewels are hard to find.
Jewels glitter and come
in glorious colors.

Ah, but jewels are more beautiful
than these, more hard to find,
more glittery, and the colors
are more dramatic.

But these stones are beautiful to me,
said the little boy.
Then they are treasures
beyond all price,
answered the father.