A year and a half ago, my body proved itself breakable,
the bone’s repair slowly making itself available.
Yet now, standing at this waterfall’s base, I learn
that what seemed healed has not been able to really return.
And what I yearned to do, I could not move myself to try.
For fear of re-injury and to avoid that, I had to deny
the pleasure of the risk-reward question and its treasure.
Great glory and pride or pain in abounding measure.
And now, I quail beneath the fountain’s great gaze
each jagged edge of rock, coated with age’s smooth glaze.
My leg quivered at the thought of scaling such terror
Sealing my lifetime with a singular error.
Phantasms of pain long ago incurred reigned
imagined thoughts of slipping my rusty leg pained.
And so, I just watched as my youth passed before me
while the rest of eternity’s travelers just ignored me.