The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Ode to Earth

Traversing forests, deserts, and over plains, baked naked out in the sun,

forlorn, a child sobbing in the rain, or teardrops from heaven falling.., 

Imagine just a moment, futility of time, 
scrutinise what balance left for self, for humanity 
In an age, a place where passion died, 

then we ought not to fail but, 
inexplicably blind - we do

Like teardrops falling from heaven, where we played, where we cried, 

It is not unending this fate, It is not completely of our own undertaking, this given mortality..,

The strangest lie ever conceived - for ourselves by ourselves this odd endeavour, 

Look for truth, push for truth, personal integrity cannot perish - ever, 

And break the barriers of our lies, 

Love seemed to always be the answer, study, practice the middle path,
so engage, indulge in life as best you can, avoid the karma of consequent wrath, 

You have to give it, to receive it anyway, which is sufficient and sublime, 

Fill your heart, don't destroy another's which is a sin, 
Follow self, one's own instinct which is sufficient doctrine, 

It's better by design



Kurt Hubbard-Beale 
December 2003
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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