From the Field
Click for meditationRegarding "From the Field"
There is a field in the
Middle of the Maine woods,
Which functions for me
As if a prayer carpet before
A glistening farmhouse
Which rises above
It in the distance.
Holier than any place
Of worship, this
Field, in turn, bows
Before the farmhouse
To which it points.
Every time I have
Stood in that field,
The farmhouse has
Appeared as if it was
Caesarea in the Gospels,
A veritable shining city
Upon a hill, and a
Beacon to anyone
In search of coming into
The presence of their
Higher Power. And as
If trying to mark my path
To the Kingdom of God, I always
Take my compass out
And take a reading of the
Farmhouse’s direction from me.
The bearing never changes –
It is north northwest,
As dependable as
The eternal love of God.
Leo Carroll
December 5, 2018
I come in awe
Before this mountain,
Embraced by tall
Autumn grasses as I
Peer up at what
On a sun-facing slope
Rests – a far-away,
Familiar white
Farmhouse, ablaze
In sunlight like it
Was disseminating
God’s Word to alight
Upon my head…
And then an inner
Voice prompts me
To re-check the
Compass heading of
This object holding my
Spellbound gaze,
And as always the
Precise needle of
Creation points the same,
“Son, the bearing and
Path for you to
My farmhouse lies
As the croaking raven
Flies — north by
Northwest.”