Age is Just a Number 

Eons, millenniums, years  

Seconds, minutes, hours  

What do we matter in the cosmic line of time?  

Or is it a curve?  

Time began in a garden so sayeth the sundial in the walled garden  

Humming with bees and other pollinators  

Green grass grows tawny without moisture, but greens again with the wet. 

Tadpoles emerge from muddy ponds, morph into frogs, croak their songs, lay their eggs and start the cycle all over again. 

If my limbs are sturdy and my breath sure at 1,000,  

Would it feel any different than 20 or 50 or 100? 

Don't know, but I'm willing to find out.