The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Still Heart

 When I give up the helm 
I know that the time has come for thee to take it. 
What there is to do will be instantly done. 
Vain is this struggle. 

Then take away your hands 
and silently put up with your defeat, my heart, 
and think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still 
where you are placed. 

These my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind, 
and trying to light them I forget all else again and again. 

But I shall be wise this time and wait in the dark, 
spreading my mat on the floor; 
and whenever it is thy pleasure, my lord, 
come silently and take thy seat here.

Form: Free verse Comments

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The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace