An Analog To Understanding

Sometimes the horse refuses to obey,
wriggled into a worm-brained state by fatigue
and lousy grains fed after desultory brushing
he jumps about in mute ignorance of the bit.

Frustrating slice of independent life
he brings my knees to painful haunch incline
brilliant sideways glance of smirk tossing mane
great shouldered shudder jangles through my frame.

And so too thoughts refuse my bridle call
and tempest-tost the id, that sense of presence,
triumphant growth in affirmation's beck
remains upon the sled of state; confused.

Where are the paddock fencings holding safe
this wandering mind, black bess in fury flailing.
Where is the link-boy's hand to hold the bridle
tremendous forces rampant tucked in jailing.

~Stuart Andrew Marshall Tanner~