They are all seeking a formula
One that will make the years seem less harsh
As the numbers start to grow up tall around them
Like their very own children.

Age is not a battle to be fought from without,
A slavish attempt to smooth out a terrain
That has been shaped by life's trials
Laughter and tears.

The road map of one's life or of little value
If it has not been well-traveled
And anything that surviving a full journey
Cannot escape from becoming worn.

Time is grace in non-resistance
They must learn to let go of the beautiful dresses
That they have outgrown,
For nothing in nature reverts the changing stages
Of life.

Even the ancient limbs of her Sugar Maple
Know how to greet the day.
They shall point skyward as if in exclamation:
Yes! Yes!!
She has experienced all of this!