To Bear with Loss of Repair

When you’re young, you test yourself,
Try all sorts of random feats,
Holding still, holding your breath,

Doing so many backflips,
Hanging so long upside down,
Going out hiking at night.

Almost none of it’s useful,
But it feels like measurement,
Like you’re preparing for life.

As you get older, you try
Such nonsense far less often,
Occupied with maintenance,

Fighting off the encroaching
Loss of repair. Random tests
Are hazards, not measurements

To suss out your potential,
And if you do catch yourself
Seeing how long you can stand

Some trial, some wearing day,
Stifling claustrophobia,
Some warm room without falling

Asleep, you may chide yourself.
This is foolishness! Quit it!
Get going. Get on with it.

For what could you possibly
Test your endurance you don’t
Know already? Oh, yes. Yes.