New Babies Of Palestine

New Babies of Palestine

New babies of Palestine,
your hands collect stardust—
a gentle promise of a brand-new year,
one empty of bombardment,
where love blossoms softly,
rooting deep like ancient olive trees.

In Spring, like almonds and cherry trees,
your laughter will bloom—
delicate petals kissed by sunlight.

In Summer, like peach, mango, and fig trees,
your innocence will ripen,
sweet with the warmth of endless skies.

In Autumn, like orange, lemon, lime, and pomegranate trees,
your spirits will burst with color,
vibrant with the hope of renewal.

In Winter, like loquat and guava trees,
you will endure the chill—
resilient, evergreen,
waiting for the sun's return.

O little ones,
may your roots find fertile ground
where no bombs fall
and no walls rise,
where the song of doves
fills the blue horizon.

New babies of Palestine,
your existence is a prayer,
your smile a revolution,
your heartbeat the rhythm
of a world reborn.

MyKoul