The Yoke

The yoke stands wide and menacingly inviting.

All my cares will handled if I just agree to pull the master’s cart.

Don’t I deserve the stability that provides?

I only have to do it during the day, and on market day.

I get days off.

But if I accept I only get fed if I obey

My potential value is so much more than my constrained task sheet

Am I allowed to sing while I work?

What happens to the ideas that I find while my body is busy?
What if I see a better path,

Want to move faster than the master does?

Heaven forbid I need to move slower. Will I be run over? Abandoned?

Will I know where I am when that happens? How will I get home?

That is the deal.

The master chooses the pace.

The master chooses the direction.

The master owns the ideas

The master voices the songs, we echo the songs.

The master does not own you!

What a silly idea.

The master owns the yoke.

You can take it off at any time.

The master can deny you the right to wear it at any time.

Why do you think you are not free?