Many dream of fortune in this life, even back to ancient times when it was once believed you paid your way into Heaven with life’s riches. I have learned to look elsewhere for my happily ever after. I wish for only silver not gold.
Why not call it gray or white? Why not call it age or wisdom? Gray is something vague, a space between two extremes. White is devoid of intensity and vitality. I wish for life’s most precious jewel. I only wish for silver no gold.
My direct family line is cursed, robbed of the precious gift most kind, generous, peace loving people crave. Over and over for generations we have been denied this gift, a common curtesy really. Why does it elude us? We only wish for silver never even considering gold.
I strive every day to make it to that promised age, defying the odds, challenging God’s apparent dictate that our life be full but oh so brief. The culprit could be cancer, it may be murder, it may be that our hearts were so full that they simply grew still one day in the midst of things. I thank Him for all my blessings still because through tragedy I have also been rewarded such blinding and great joy. Still I dream though. I dream in silver not gold.
Now I look to the horizon at those who come along behind me, many I have nurtured, and now one I have given life. There was a time I squandered prayers and hopes so foolishly. That they find fame, that all my children find success and a career that affords them prestige. A doctor, a lawyer, a President, a leader, someone to look up to. But blood pours over those dreams now, violence shakes their foundation and reality demolishes my delusion where I am forced to open my eyes. I must accept our lot and push forward anyway, hopefully for change, if not now then maybe a promise for tomorrow. I secretly still dream frivolous, grander dreams but shy from that magnificance at the peak of day, in exchange for something far more valuable to me . I wish my children longevity that doubles my own, my parents, and their parents. I wish for them only silver in a world not meant for us to conquer, if it is not too large a request, not gold.
Gold leads to greed, and turns green with envy. Gold paves a treacherous path where no one’s destination is safety or peace, it’s only objective to multiply. Silver is much more rare to my brown skinned kin and continues to be precious throughout our blood lines. I wish our prodigies a chance to let their hands grow withered the bones arthritic with the experience of holding on. I wish for the wrinkles creasing their cheeks and brow telling a story of adventures, of time well spent with people they love, and a life lived well into the future. I wish for them to look into the mirror day after day and see growing bolts of silver glory spiking through their dark locks like a lightening storm painting the darkest night sky. I struggle and sacrifice for their opportunity as my ancestors did for mine. I wish for you only silver dear hearts, never gold.