Do you know me, sir?
I speak not of the colour
of my face and hair.

Do you know me, sir?
No, not by the tongue I speak
Or where I am from.

Do you know me, sir?
I meant not the name of my
God or what I eat.

Do you know me, sir?
Not by where I live and work,
Or my golden hoard.

Do you know me, sir?
I ask not how loud I talk,
Or my love of stage.

Do you know me, sir?
Not by how much I know and,
how fast I can run.

Do you know me, sir?
Never by what you think of
my man-woman-hood.

If you think you know –
This is but a bit, I am
more than all of these.

Know me when my heart
is in what I say and do;
By the paths I take.

I am how I treat
the old and poor, weak and meek,
And other men’s gods.

Know by how I let
my friends and better half fly;
By my dear folk’s pride.

Read me from thoughts in
my head, the flowers I smell;
By how I know you.

If you still must know,
We are all rivers that must
once end in the sea.