In the mirror, lines have grown, yet wisdom’s light does shine,
With every year, a story told, in every crease, a sign,
The hands of time, they move with grace, through seasons warm and cold,
And in this dance, we find our place, embracing growing old.

The silver threads among the brown, a testament to years,
Each strand a memory profound, of laughter, love, and tears,
Though youth may fade, a deeper glow illuminates the soul,
For in the heart, the seeds we sow, continue to unfold.

The autumn leaves, they gently fall, a cycle to renew,
As we ascend, we hear the call, to paths both old and new,
With every step, we journey forth, with courage in our stride,
For age reveals our truest worth, a treasure found inside.

So let us cherish every day, the moments that we keep,
For in the twilight’s gentle sway, the memories we reap,
The passage of time, a precious gift, a story to be told,
With open hearts, we gracefully lift, the beauty of growing old.