The Rumble of Innocence

Made with DALL-E

There it is again—the low rumble of a fighter jet.
Oh, wait… it’s just a bimba.
But every time, we stop.
Because they sound the same.

One carries a toddler, carefree and small,
The other, a soldier who left that behind.
Both speeding forward to somewhere unknown,
With a roar that fills the air.

One smiles wide, maybe even laughs,
The other is focused, eyes locked ahead.
Both moving forward, each in their world—
One guards the life the other’s just learning.

The toddler sees the soldier, in awe,
Dreaming of strength, hoping to grow,
Imagining the day he’ll make his own roar.
The soldier remembers that time, long ago—
When life was just wheels on the floor.

Their mothers and fathers hear it too, feel it all,
The rumble of innocence, the fear of its loss,
The pride in their hearts, mixed with worry and hope.

And everyone else who hears that sound
Feels something deep, unspoken, profound—
They feel pride in freedom, a little bit scared,
Thinking of those who have already dared.

The young, the old, the wise, the brave—
Each time that roar rises, they know who gave
A piece of themselves for the life we keep,
The dreams we cherish, the innocence we save.