Some things take place too soon. A glass of wine

Is drunk unbreathed, its tannins yet too harsh.

A flower, planted out too early, dies

When frosts of winter late in season come.

 

Some things take place too late. A rose that’s wilting

Its structure’s cells collapsed and nearing death,

Does not respond to water. Bread dough left

Too long to rise collapses on itself.

 

And then, some things are timely. Sometimes they,

Possessing an enchantment, if you like,

Can happen just when they’re most dearly wanted:

Sometimes the rain does come when needed most.

 

From time to time, the tea is neither weak

Nor bitter. Kindly words, if spoken in

Due season work a change in someone’s heart,

And even buses, sometimes, run on time.

 

Once in a while, two souls approach each other

Not tardy, nor in any way too soon.

The universe applauds, and angels dancing

On pin heads miss their footing in their awe.