seconds: note nine: wobbles

The surprise in play
is how captivated I become
by some detail:
in this case the wobble.
The word play can refer
to that little give and take
within the machinery of gears
that mechanically allows for the whole thing
to get going.
I am curious about a collection of wobbles.
They are my affirmations of play.
The earth wobbles;
the moon wobbles;
the north pole wobbles;
and the surface of the sun wobbles.
And my,
as I try and accomplish some task,
memory wobbles.
I am so pleased with these wobbles.
The tide wobbles.
The splinter in my finger wobbles.
Some wobbles are miniscule.
Some wobbles are enormous;
but in the realm of wobbles,
wobbles tend to add something
without destroying the integrity
of the material or the system.
Maybe that’s what I like about them,
and maybe that’s at the heart of some ineffable explanation.

a note on the image: this is a wobble totem. I made it over a decade ago at the Eno River Festival, Durham, North Carolina, out of a small worn piece of river wood, 2 rusty iron washers and a bit of fishing line found as I walked around. I placed the washers around the wood and threaded the line through the washers to catch a hook of wood. I continued walking around the gathering, dangling this pendulum of sorts.