I pray we will one day love people whose eyes, mouth and nose are not shaped like ours
Whose hairs may curl better or worse,
Whose culture is richer than our culture,
Whose language may not slip easily off our tongue,
Whose prayers may not be to the same deity or deities.
I pray we will one day learn that the color of our backs: mine, yours, and theirs don’t separate us
From living under the same atmosphere whether
we live in the same hemisphere or not,
From living on a planet of green, brown, and blue that
Rotates in a void—giving us hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen to breathe.
I pray we will one day understand that we all bleed the same crimson blood, no matter if
Your blood boils from capitalist abuse and
My blood boils from racial injustice
And her blood boils from corrupt global affairs
And their blood boils from environmental injustice.
I pray we ask ourselves the question: are we as different as we believe we are?
What makes us so different?
Is it our interiors: the blood, bones, and organs?
Or is it just our exteriors: the wear and tear of experience
And the complexions of our skins?