Silver Hairs
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A Poem
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I look at you,
With your hair tied up.
Well, part of it up, with the rest on a mission to go left and right, making your head took akin to a bird’s nest.
But just like a bird finds comfort at home,
I find comfort in the sight of you.
On closer inspection, it is not a trick of the light,
But the tale of time making a mark in your hair.
White strands hidden among your locks.
Grey and black.
Salt and pepper.
Stop trying to hide the fact age loves you.
Silver crowns your head now.
I know when you see it you remember.
I cannot forget.
We all get a little older each day.
But not all of us shall live to see grey streak our hair.
وَقَضَىٰ رَبُّكَ أَلَّا تَعْبُدُوٓا۟ إِلَّآ إِيَّاهُ وَبِٱلْوَٰلِدَيْنِ إِحْسَـٰنًا ۚ إِمَّا يَبْلُغَنَّ عِندَكَ ٱلْكِبَرَ أَحَدُهُمَآ أَوْ كِلَاهُمَا فَلَا تَقُل لَّهُمَآ أُفٍّۢ وَلَا تَنْهَرْهُمَا وَقُل لَّهُمَا قَوْلًۭا كَرِيمًۭا
