In shadows of vast numbers, one state, brave,
Four hundred million against a smaller enclave.
Once seventeen million, now reduced by hate,
Memories of Holocaust echo a fearful fate.
Nine million dwell in Israel, a complex brew,
Two million Arabs, and the Jewish crew.
Surrounded by nations, twenty-two to one,
In the Great Assembly, Arab voices spun.
Six times war danced, since forty-eight unfurled,
Acquiring buffer zones in a hostile world.
Land returned for peace, Gaza’s gate set free,
Yet in twenty-three, terror proclaimed its decree.
Bold in vision, strength of old, reborn,
Rejecting norms that modern times have worn.
Over mountains, seas, where primal men tread,
Nature's laws above all, by them led.
Zeal for power, the dominance of might,
Embracing hierarchies, the ancient rite.
In a small town not far, lived Conor so grand,
A curious boy with a question in hand.
"Why does the sun set? Why does the moon glow?"
He'd ask all day long because he wanted to know.
His house was a hub of marvelous sound,
A cacophony where knowledge was found.
With books scattered here and jokes told out there,
His laughter and wonder filled up the air.
"Did you know that an octopus has three hearts?"
He'd share with his friends, as they made crafts and art.
Or "A group of crows is a murder, you see!"
Conor was as curious as curious could be.
He loved all the animals, from big to quite small,
From the giants of the ocean to insects that crawl.
He'd tell you cool facts, like how bats use their ears,
And how chameleons change color, oh the things you'd hear!