The process, a grow-fest
To old night gown from crawling vest
Lessons learned on end
Until in the mirror we greet aged friend
The process, a winding road
Amassing experience gaining weightier load
Eyes deepening with every minute
Were we refined and cleaned within it?
The process, balloon lost to sky
From our first scream to our last cry
Knowing too late the brief nature of life
When night comes to make you his wife.