One point: 618

Ok, just putting this right here. The poem is about the Fibonacci Sequence. The Fibonacci Sequence is what you get if, starting with 1,0, you add each number with the previous number in the sequence, and use the answer as the next term. The first ten numbers are: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55. Those also happen to be the syllable counts of the lines in this poem.
As you go farther on into the sequence, if you divide each term by the next one, the answer approaches Phi (1.618, also known as the golden ratio), a number that pops up almost everywhere. It was in the Da Vinci code. You can read more about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fibonacci_sequence#Relation_to_the_golden_ratio
I'm sorry if other people aren't as...mathematically inclined as I am, but I thought it would be a fun poem
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Life
Is
Growing
Beyond us
In ways we cannot
understand or try to control.
People say that thirteen is an unlucky number.
Twenty-one is the drinking age, but it is something more, a golden conspiracy.
You will die trying to count the ways that it entangles us. That would defeat the purpose. Knowing is dying and dying is end and means.
But relax; Amber lilies were not made to be counted. Do what you will with sunflower seeds, but taste them first. Sycamore branches do not spend their years waiting to be measured. Wait. Use your senses. Who cares if you have five?

This is a strange but interesting little poem. I think the structure needs some work because at the moment, you have your line breaks in some irrational places but the content is quite good. I like the general theme you have going but I think your imagery could be stronger. Add more descriptions, expand on the 'amber lillies' and why being twenty-one is a golden conspiracy. In fact, I'm in a 'line by line' mood today so here you go -

Life
Is
Growing
Beyond us
In ways we cannot
understand or try to control. [I love this first statement. I mean, it's a touch unoriginal and it isn't descriptive but it sets out the purpose of the poem nicely and it gets the reader thinking. Your structure here is very eye-catching and unusual which I like but perhaps start another stanza after this?]
People say that thirteen is an unlucky number. [You need to expand on this. Just a few sentences to emphasise the point like 'Thirteen black cats with thirteen noses,/A shattered mirror, scattered fragments of our dreams.']
Twenty-one is the drinking age, but it is something more, a golden conspiracy. [Put some line breaks in this sentence and like I said earlier, add some more. Describe the 'golden conspiracy' and what it means to be twenty-one. Also, might be a good place to start a new stanza again.]
You will die trying to count the ways that it entangles us. [New line here.]That would defeat the purpose. [New line here.]Knowing is dying and dying is end and means. [New stanza here perhaps.]
But relax; Amber lilies were not made to be counted. [New line.] Do what you will with sunflower seeds, but taste them first. [New line.]Sycamore branches do not spend their years waiting to be measured. [New line.]Wait. Use your senses. [New line.] Who cares if you have five.

Other than that, just generally add more imagery and expand upon the points you make and I think it could be really good. Let me know if you decide to make any changes and I'll happily give you more advice.

Surprisingly, I liked the first few lines, how they grew longer and longer. That's a nice effect, albeit a tad superficial. Past that, it is rather blunt, and seems to dive more into a prosaic essay and less into poetry the farther it progresses. The last segment ["But relax; Amber lilies..."] had some nice ideas [the sunflower seeds especially; I liked that part!!] but as they were all clumped together, a bit overwhelming. Here's what I'd suggest:

You will die trying to count the ways that it entangles us. That would defeat the purpose. Knowing is dying and dying is end and means.
But relax; [s]Amber lilies were not made to be counted.[/s] Do what you will with sunflower seeds, [s]but[/s]as long as you taste them first. Wait. Sycamore branches do not spend their years waiting to be measured. [s]Wait.[/s] Use your senses. Who cares if you have five?

Like I said, I liked the last part as a whole, but I wish you had expanded on the ideas in the parts preceding it.

PM me if you have any questions,
-Amelia

I really your basic idea here and the way you've presented numbers...especially 1.618, because isn't that the number that is the ratio of all these things in nature to all these other things in nature? (I apologize for my inability to be articulate at this moment.)

Poetic Device. At the moment, this is overwhelming prosaic.

People say that thirteen is an unlucky number.
Twenty-one is the drinking age, but it is something more, a golden conspiracy.

These two lines are probably the worst; you're just spitting out facts. It sounds like you're writing an essay, not poetry, know what I mean?
Also, you get really lazy with the line breaks at the end, almost as if they didn't matter, and it's very confusing to read. It also makes the poem look really distorted.

Ahh, in short, I mean that you have a great premise, but trouble putting it out there in an effective, enjoyable way, and gosh do I know what that feels like. My suggestion is to place it in a specific situation, rather than beginning with "Life", which is so darn broad. Begin with a specific instance; a time when the speaker was looking at a sycamore tree or an amber lily. It's easier to begin with the specific and imply the general.

Good luck!
-Colleen