Child that could be my child,
child that could be my daughter,
you're like an unspoken fairy tale:
the clear blue sky if it had
a human face.  Imagine that face
among clouds and not surrounded
by sullen stones, tangled hair, worn shoes.
Imagine that face as pure melody of lullaby
soothing the impatient bird before its first
flight.  Open wings ready to embrace the wind.