Through My Eyes

THROUGH MY EYES Through my eyes I see that our bodies are units made up of many parts; each different. Although We both have eyes, through yours all you see is a tree bare; through mine a creation of grace and beauty. Ears, in which we both hear; yours, the passing traffic; mine, the dulcet offerings, of butcher bird give a call to mate. Tongues, with which each speaks; yours to voice bitter criticism, and disappointments so of chances that have passed you by; mine, encouragement spoken softly to convey love. Hands, we each both have two; yours, my friend are raised, in hatred and contempt; mine, however, clasped together, offering a prayer of thanks for all my blessings He has bestowed. Covering each, Is a wondrous thing called skin. My friend, you find it hard to love, or even accept, the colour of mine, for you see someone else to be despised and criticized, but when I look at you though, I see someone Who has many needs? Thus I say, we both have feet and until you have walked a mile in mine, or I have in yours, we have no right to judge the other. God has created each, and our bodies, just as he wanted them to be; thus through my eyes, this I see. Francis Cooper – Mac © pre-1977