The frame decides, I'm just the witness with a torch

I keep having this half-dream while I'm awake in the shop: the steel starts moving before I touch it, curving into lugs on its own, and I'm just standing there with the torch like a dumb witness. At first it scared me — like I was losing the craft. Now it's kind of peaceful. The bike wants what it wants, and my job is to not get in the way. Though I did wake up once and wonder if I'm just getting lazy and calling it surrender.