Deflated: The Crux of a Conundrum

This marvelous awareness,
This sweet attention
From whose impermanence or fluctuation?
From this perception or point of view
There is some looking out, but by whom?

This is the puzzle,
What keeps repeating
Like a radio signal,
Itself a wave form
That travels as it vibrates?

And so we too travel and tremble,
Colliding with other waves
And yet for a while seemingly
Maintaining our integrity,
Though transformed by each encounter;

Then what are we?
The pattern seems to repeat,
Is changed yet unchanged,
Or so it appears to me,
This impermanent permanence,

Hence the idea of impermanence by itself
Does not seem to impress me much,
Nor help much neither
But only confuse,
As what goes away seems to come back,

And this seems especially true
Of those patterns
I’d rather be free of,
Those unhappy arisings
That never really seem to go away;

They always seem to be
At least potentially there,
Or is the cause merely a habit of looking,
Of searching for something familiar?