Can we hide kids in a cloud until all wars are over?
Can we protect their innocence from the cruelty of this world?
Can they run, laugh, play and swing over water
unwatched by drones, unshaken by sirens?

Can we let them ask their whys; the normal ones:
Why is the sky blue?
Why do bees dance?
Why do my shoes light up when I run so fast?

Can we put them on a kite to fly away…
above borders,
above bullets,
into a sky that never learned the language of war?

Can the cloud be soft enough to hold their giggles,
strong enough to hold back the sound of bombs?

Can it rock them to sleep
with stories of stars
instead of stories of loss?

Can we press pause
on history’s cruel cycle,
just long enough
for one generation to grow up whole?

Can we promise them not one more childhood
will be buried beneath their homes?
Not one more cradle left to burn?

Can we just hide them in a cloud until they are grown?