In the mirror, lines softly trace,
Stories etched upon the face,
Time’s gentle hands do weave and mold,
A tapestry of life, growing old.

The silver strands in twilight’s glow,
Tell tales of places we used to know,
With every wrinkle, wisdom unfolds,
A silent strength, as life enfolds.

Seasons pass in a timeless dance,
Moments cherished, given a chance,
In aging steps, we find our stride,
With open hearts and arms spread wide.

As years roll on like waves to shore,
We journey forth, seeking more,
In growing old, a beauty untold,
A gentle grace, as time takes hold.