A grey hair for having worked as hard as one can,
pushing
oneself to capacity and sometimes beyond,
to that rickety bridge between the
edges of two cliffs.
A grey hair for having thought and thought about something,
allowing it to consume almost every corner of one’s mind,
until it finds a way
to manifest itself elsewhere in the body – or spontaneously combusting.
A grey hair for worrying about something,
forgetting for a
time that worrying is a sign
of waning faith in that which faith should never
wane, before remembering again.
A grey hair for the overwhelming, euphoric joy
that comes
with certain blessings, like the birth of one’s child
or the unfiltered look they
give of pure, untarnished love.
A grey hair for the deep, humbling reflection
that
momentarily reminds one of
the utter fragility of humankind in all things that
matter.
A grey hair for the welling despair one has
for the treacherous
conditions one’s brothers and sisters face in parts of the world
that are ruled
by men who have yet to reflect on their fragility,
falsely guided instead by
their arrogance and hunger for ‘power’.
A grey hair for love,
and another,
and another …
indeed more
grey hairs sprout from love
than all other emotions and experiences pooled
together,
thank God for that.
