The Most Sought After Model, That Is Their Treasure

Beautiful. Rare. Genuine. Lovely. Fascinating.

You. Me.

The most sought after model.

They dig deep and search hard. Never giving up until they know where it is.

And then when they discover its light, they dig faster and 
look deeper until every corner and room and crevice has been unturned.The best. 


They become determined in their search. Giving up they will not for they just have to have it and their feet and legs, though tired, will trudge on and on.

Finally its in their small hands, this magnificent beaming treasure that's worth more than whats in boxes or on shelves or on the blackened pixel display that everyday entices them.

But this treasure.. so dear to them.

They want to hold it for its priceless and there's only one and its theirs and it does something that nothing else does and they try to figure it out but it takes a lifetime. 

This treasure.

It glows sometimes there in the eyes. 

It smiles and laughs and cries and shouts and prays and guides and its always busy and it models and it loves and they want more of it, all of it, to be like it, to be like us.

And its all theirs. It feels and fills apart of them.

This model. This word that's tossed around and swept up as meaningless. But we are. We do..model..we their treasure.    

I may not feel it or look it as color turns grey and the scale tips and legs become heavy and tired eyes burn and the mouth opens too quickly and moments may feel better alone and concealed for sometimes doubt and wretchedness creeps in and overshadows. 

Worthlessness sets in as fruit loops are scraped off kitchen floors and bottles are washed and homework is gone over and when I can't chase him or fingers can't quickly grasp the folds of hair to be exactly so and when I feel like I don't look just so perfect or act just so well like others may.

We are still their treasure.

And there's someone searching for it and we model and it's hard to fill the shoes though we may fail and fall.

From the beginning sounds of rustling on sheets, to the stumbling of little legs in the morning they want to be by the side that we wish we had time to flatten, but there's something about it, they have to be so close. Tired eyes and longer legs awake and they sit still and souls sit and wait for words and actions. And we smile and we try because we love.

They Hunger for you. 

The real you. 

The soul and spirit, that is all treasure.

We do the drill and pour milk in bowls, dress and brush and take the day each day either slowly or too quickly and we make mistakes and we are watched. 

Every turn, every bend, every word, every trip, every smile or frown. Watched. 

They look up. Look up to see and to learn what is right. We model life and love and forgiveness and treasure and what Spirit is and what it should look like.

We may fail and wail and trip but a new day. It's not over. Its not over and we may feel like staying under the covers and rotting our soul and flesh but these spirits. Who will help sow their seeds? What will their eternity be? 

Don't hide and doubt and have disbelief in self that shows. And to which they squint and stare at their treasure in wonder as to why and what they should do and they try to brighten it because they know it will shine if they only try harder.

You. I. Try and fight while the body is weak for the Spirit has strength, believe in Gods light and mercy and love and block all that creeps and crushes the pure goodness in self.

For years fade tens and twenty years fade like a blink of the eye and they may forget and it may take another ten or twenty to remember. 

But its the rarest treasure and they all always keep coming back for it. 

And the treasure that is in us, is never forgotten in them because the model never stops wearing it.  

It's polished and repolished by memories and moments of littleness, soft hands on cheeks, sticky fingers and melted ice cream cones, chases around tree trunks, spilt tears, long talks and walks, caps and gowns, and a presence that is always there.

Time will pass. 

Days will flee.

Hours will fade.

And life stretches thin the desires of the heart, the will of the soul, and the face of the treasure and its home.

But then comes our see the treasure we made for ourselves in them.

And to them we will always be.

For the treasure never loses its rarity for its the model that makes the treasure so sought after.