Our jewels were the dew upon golden grasses, for the sunlight illuminated them individually and yet all as one.
And then by the morn of spring and onwards into eventide, came the jewels of the season.
My jewels were the beaded rain upon new spring growth, they were the bright petals of flower buds. When we are willing to see the truth of what is sacred, the living world becomes a greater beauty than polished stones could ever be.
Count not the jewels of dragons keep, lest the blessings of creation go unadored.
As if in divine consultation, in an elevating conspiracy of nature, all about us come the jewels of creation.
And to the light of the amber fields, made sepia in the eventide, comes the real jewels of our world, these living fossils of preserved divinity.
Treasure the jewels that encourage true virtue and not the bling of vice.
Any and every child of Earth is worth more than all the jewels ever made, for life is worth more; Bob Marley got that right.