In the quiet lanes of maturity,
Where wisdom blooms and hearts are sure,
Adults tread with silent surety,
A path that's less about allure.
They've danced through youth's bright, verdant spring,
Faced summer's high, relentless sun,
Now autumn's gold in their hands they bring,
With stories of battles lost and won.
In their eyes, a gentle knowing,
Of dreams fulfilled and some that fled,
In their steps, a grace bestowing,
On roads where countless feet have tread.
They speak in tones of softened steel,
Their laughter rich with deeper tones,
For they have learned to live and feel,
The weight of life in aching bones.
Yet, in their gaze, a fire still burns,
For life's not done, there's more to taste,
With every turn, a new page turns,
No precious moment left to waste.
So here's to adults, in their prime,
Whose lives are maps of lines well earned,
Each wrinkle carved by hands of time,
A testament to lessons learned.
