It seems there is
a precious balance
to pouring motor oil
without a funnel.
Hurry,
and the pour swings out
in thick liquid swills –
missing the hole and
running down
the outside of the engine.
Go slow,
and you find
the same spilling sway;
the error to either side burns off in engine heat.
There is a balance in the middle.
It takes
my entire coordination
to adjust the tilt and
speed of the pour.
I –
a sommelier
for my car’s engine-
bent from the waist –
all points of my attention focused on the
delivery of the divine liquid
in the morning light
just to get to work
as a longhaired neighbor cat –
whom I call Esè –
gives full attention to
my movement.
He knows the delicate dance I learn, here in the pour.
This operation is silent
and serious,
and in this frame of mind,
I start to think that words are viscous
like this oil,
a delicate pour out of my mouth —
When I go too fast or too slow
they don’t land
and instead spill and burn off of you
in the heat of motion.
Let me
quiet – and
hear truth
beyond fast or slow,
beyond awkward hurry and
slow deliberation.
Beyond
hush and
yaddah yaddah
lies a language we’ve forgotten.
At the edge of our senses –
in peripheral shadow
floats a liquid language so free of weight it is
riding the breeze –
free from the illusion of a me
talking.
Life as Improv 
Fun morning read
grease monkey musings 🙂
Now that’s what I call going with the flow!
🙂 You brought to my mind my student last semester who had “Go with the Flow” tattooed on her inner arm – and she held it up as a visual aid when she gave her presentation on Taoism. haha.
You poured out the words just right that time.
🙂 Thank you, Michael.
In it, but not of it. Here, but not stuck as anyone or to any one spot on the map. Tire changes and cat watching and lines at the post office and interacting with the checkout person at target all become the most sacred moments in life…
I am practicing being present with presence as I touch the the feeling of no separation without getting lost as the boundaries go. The oil hits the edges so that I remember who I am (and who I am not) and then when square on, I am empty as a mirror so “they” can remember who they are and who they are not through a clear pour as “I” am out of their and the way.
LOVE THIS POST! -x.M
Your connecting words resonate deeply with where I was when these words flowed out. I have often wondered about these holy moments in such odd settings – until I can see with the eyes that every/where is sacred. And so funny that the target checkout holy moments are more common than the prescribed sacred moments.
Also it seems to me there is a Nice flowing connection with this discussion I stumbled upon:
http://middlepane.com/2013/08/16/karmic-fuel/
The dishes, the gas run, and the pregnant potentiality of presence in these moments…
X! m
wow. beautiful. just what my soul desired this morning. thank you, madame poetess.
“I start to think that all vocalization is perhaps a delicate pour…”
exquisite
and I feel like the long haired cat as I re read this
Hey – now your words loop back to me and I am the cat too 🙂 What a lovely morning to connect in these ways with your writing and now back here! I’m learning to trust this flow of meeting the real dealings of others in words beyond faces – feels a forgotten place I’m so happy to return to…Much love to you, Renee!