Broken Healed

Circus of intention, surfaces, depths
of attention, how I never can know
where I'm coming from, or where I'm going,
but know myself in transit, as transit,

transitions sometimes soft, gently pleasing,
sometimes cruel, storming, threatening wreckage
against the rocks of me, awesome, awful,
holding out against white crashing of waves

in this short space of my own intending,
of my own attending my inventing
I have lost my way, so need to reset,
to resist the urge to insist, let be

I'm the appliance of my compliance
having been broken healed past defiance