Transitive
The thing is unsatisfactory.
Something still is not quite right.
So I will keep smoothing, spinning, shaping.
And maybe, in the end, I will collapse, press in,
put the whole mess back into a form
in which I can begin again,
deftly forming, patient until the beauty
of my intention takes hold.
Intransitive
This unknowing,
this acceptance of unwholeness, of always
becoming.
This bewildering spin and the press
of the quick strong hands,
the pain of collapse.
In the end one must simply
be held.
View from the Valley 
Your poetry really spoke to me this morning. It is difficult to settle with being a work in progress. It is even more difficult to think you have everything figured out, only to have it collapse around you. That is precisely what I went through last year. In 2019 so much was taken away from me, but at the same time I grew more than ever before. I have found that there is freedom in accepting our imperfections and rest to be found in being held.
I’m definitely going to subscribe!
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I just saw this comment, Kaelynn. Thank you so much for reading and responding–and for subscribing! I’m glad you are reading along. 🙂
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Well-done!
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