Poem: Is It Too Late

Is It Too Late

At the time when it could be done,
I could not do it.  I was not ready,
did not know how to be ready.
I was a plant growing in darkness,
hoping the sun would be there,
thinking it was only time,
only the night around me
and not another darkness,
a shadow on this spot
that will not shift.
I waited in darkness,
I was not aware
what there was to do,
or how to do it.
I did learn, found my way,
reached towards the light,
and I can do it now,
but what could be then
does not seem possible.
I think it is the wrong season.

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