How can you look at me and say

that I, 

snow that comes on a Christmas Eve, sweeping with the wind's influence,

have more power, more beauty, more right to be on this earth

than the rich, deep earthiness of the mud after a rain, 

the sparkling sands of the desert,

the clay beneath the earth,

any other rich color

that lends itself to beauty the space 

that we call a home.

How can you look at me and say that I,

an upright tree, standing tall against a storm, 

have more right to breathe

than a willow, waving in the breeze to meet with another

or the butterflies that flit through the meadow, beating wings as they play

all creating the environment

that finds itself wrought in our soul, that we long for in its majesty.

Nature does not lend itself to predjudice, instead equally inviting and ruthless to all, no matter the face or circumstance.

The phrase "but we are only human" presents itself not for oppression as we have used it, but exists to equalize all.

The right to live is not given by color or sexuality, but by existence.