The Initiation

There is a subterranean rumble
And  growl of machinery
Which  has been lying
In wait all these years
Until someone took the fate
To  fire-up the dynamo
Set a long train of cogs
And  wheels in action.
I can feel it build
Feel the force grow
The  wheels' lumbering
Turns  as they move
In unison, unused grinding
Shakes  the dusts of years
From  their dry serrations.
How   the metal whines.
I must  digest enough
To  set the motion in
Glissade, make it
Slippery, mobile
Well-oiled and smooth
Make  it move
Close to a static hum
In-grooved.   Balanced.
No  shuddering illusion
But  enough well-tuned
Motion  to keep it alive
And  going.

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