It is the same sun
But because it rises on different sides, at different times around the world
We refuse to realte to one another
It is the same red blood we bleed
Yet we have no problem shedding it
For a land that cannot feel the bodies within it
Hear the cries of innocent children being slaughtered
Smell the blood and pollution that fills the air
Taste the mucus mixed with saliva that the people spat upon its lips
Or see the world in its chaos
But what if it senses everything?
What if one day the tree tells al your secrets?
Or the stone fights back after being kicked around so much?
Everything feels
Everything breathes
How can we relate to the Earth and care for it if we can't do that with the people within our own species?
We are blinder than newborn bats to a world that we were born and raised in.
We are deafer to our own voices than we are to those of others
We are numb to the pain of others, but expect sympathy when we are hurt
We are unable to taste happiness because we are busy smelling up ways to make others unhappy
I have a few simple questions:
Can we find a way to just tolerate one another?
I know that it is impossible to genuinely like everyone for who they are, but is tolerance too much to ask for?