Ring the bells
And sound your yells
We count them off today.
For every step
And hour met
We join and shout, “Hurray!”
We start this life
One shape, one form
As the vase that flowers hold.
But we grow, we change
We rearrange
We fall-and break the mold.
Don’t mourn the vase,
Your tear to waste,
Lost-asleep within the sand.
It forms in surf
A different worth
A sea glass treasure grand.
So-
Erase the year
Ignore the date
Face those mirrors down.
The measure of
Your age and worth
In heart and soul is found.
Eliza Keller 
Ah, this is very good, and I like the style you composed this enlightened poetry in. I am of the age that I understand and accept the message here. We are who we are at a certain given point. But we change. We must change. Shatter the vase if you will.
HI, enjoyed this poem and thanks for the reminder of what our true measure is.