Persistence is her name (a poem)

I open my eyes,
and there I see
You
standing before me.
At the same time
you see me.
We see each other
differently.
Are our eyes to blame
for seeing
the beautiful differences
we see
as a threat to
our individual humanity.
Or is the culprit the
lens of tribal insecurity
inherited from
the self proclaimed protectors
of our "safety".
We must struggle
to see deeply;
beauty
and
strength
are to be found
in the depth
of our technicolor
diversity
not boring
monochromatic
uniformity.