In the whispers of the wind, I hear the stories told,
Of days gone by, of memories old.
With each sunrise, a new lesson learned,
Through trials faced, and bridges burned.

The lines upon my face, a map of years,
Etched with laughter, and sometimes tears.
Wisdom grows, as youth departs,
With every beat, of a seasoned heart.

In the mirror’s gaze, I see the change,
A soul matured, no longer strange.
The beauty found in silver strands,
A testament to life’s gentle hands.

So I embrace the years, both kind and tough,
For in their wake, I find enough.
A life well-lived, with stories grand,
Growing older, wiser, hand in hand.