Taming the rider

Taming the rider.

He is not an ostler, not a dedicated soldier nor even a

Seasoned man knowledgable in matters of horse.

A rider of pleasure at his own will and wish,

Always bent upon taming the good horse

Literal ride on it, right from fodder down to stable

The mild tamed horse yields to his pressure,

Even the grazing on the green savanna is

Time –bound and checked by the rider,

Brownish and slender the tamed brute

Is not a brute but in perfect diapason?

With the rider with the rigid bridle

And sadistic bent of mind in taming

The innocent further: the rider more

Often than not has a jolly good ride

And thanked heaven for such a mild creature.

Yet his ego does not permit him to accept

Goodness and reality.

He continues to Bully the brute.

The all seeing gods and all knowing gods

One day decide to test the rider to teach a lesson,

One day on his way back to the stable

When the sun has travelled westward,

The birds and animals reach their habitat

The sky’s blue is merged by the stars twinkling,

When the deep is aggravated by the roaring waves,

The tired rider now walking alone chances to

See a horse flat on the ground, motionless,

Seemingly sad face with a pointed arrow on its left leg,

Appearances are deceptive, the dictum is true

For the horse seems to be on its heals

the moment the arrow is taken

the rider aghast, now chases runs,

gasping for breadth, catching the strap,

but the horse kicks him so often that

this experience is quite new,

he pats now on the brute, sits on it

when the ride starts, alas it comes to a halt,

refuses to move , this time a mild pat on his body,

the infuriated brute untameable, jumps high,

that the rider is tamed to the ground