What was it that I wanted long ago

when I hadn’t yet begun to waste time

Wasn’t it something I wanted to know

about the mountains I had yet to climb?

And were those mountains of my own making

or were they set for me by another

Either way they were not for the taking

Too distant, too difficult to bother

The skills I needed, too late to master

All my tools are old and gathering dust

Fear kept me from picking them up faster

It’s not use but neglect that makes them rust

Now at last, with what is left empowered

I have to push away to push forward