In the quiet folds of passing years,
Where echoes of youth softly fade,
We gather moments, shedding fears,
As wisdom gently takes its shade.

With every line upon our face,
A story etched by laughter’s grace,
Each silver thread in hair’s embrace,
Marks tales of love we can’t replace.

The dreams of old, like autumn leaves,
Drift softly down to ground below,
Yet in their fall, the heart believes,
That seeds of wisdom start to grow.

So let the seasons have their way,
With every dawn and dusk’s retreat,
For in the dance of night and day,
Life’s melody becomes complete.