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?