Why Do I Love You?

So,why do I love you?

        You're really not like me!

You look different—you are different—

        as anyone can see:

Your skin's a different shade,

        or your hair's in a different braid,

Or your eyes and your face show that

        you were born in a different place.

We don't talk the same: We use different

        pitch, a different sounding word,

Sometimes, a different language,

        to say what we want heard.

Some of you bow down

        and some of you kneel to pray.

We have the very same God, but

        we worship in a different way.

And our gender and how we reproduce

        divides us every day.  

So, why do I love you

        as much as I love me?

I think it's that we're not that image

        in the mirror that we see;

That we know that we must set  

        those divisive images free;

That our differences do not speak

         from the soul of you and me;

That, when we're thinking with our hearts,

         we find that we're all family.

A Hill resident, the author believes that the appreciation of art should not be influenced by the vagaries or prejudices of biography.