Remember the Reins

We are walking skeletons.
Our flesh and blood embody
the behaviors and forms
Impressed upon us by culture.
By family.
By friends.
By enemies.
By strangers.

Predispositions established, lived,
and then forgotten,
Yet still lived.

Guided unconsciously, we are the
Horse rider who forgets he is ahorse;
Loses sight of his destination.

Horse, like unchecked thought and emotion,
Carries us along the path of its own choosing.
A comfortable path, to be sure,
Though one absent the strenuous peaks,
with their rewarding vistas;
Ignorant of those lessons in humility which
Ravines gift from their low perspectives.

But mere contentment is surrender
to a life of illusory fulfilment,
One of disguised aversion,
One in which attachment
Dons the sheepskin of love.

I beseech you:

Remember the reins.
They have always and will always
Lay delicately across your palms,
Imbued with heavy potential.

Consider their weight,
Their fine detail.
Caress them with your willing fingertips and
Appreciate their indentations,
As you might relish the indentations
Memory has marked upon your own soul.

Remember the reins.
Resume your journey, and travel:
Forward,
Backward,
Standing still,
It makes no matter.

Just remember the reins.