Rockweed Love
Click for meditationRegarding "Rockweed Love"
We were in Maine
Again this past summer, and
As customary, one of
Our daughters with her
Young family was with us.
We were at the beach
Almost every day, and
Our two granddaughters
Frolicked in the cold
Waters with no ill effects.
On the next to last day
There, as we were
Getting ready to leave
The beach and were washing
The sand off our feet,
A little voice standing
Beside me spoke
With the innocence and
Prescient wisdom of a
Child. It was one of my
Granddaughters, age
Eight. And out she was
Holding her palm,
Wanting to show what
She had miraculously found –
A piece of rockweed
Seaweed, a free-floating
Type of algae, its appendage
Drawn into the shape
Of a perfect heart!
It symbolized so much –
Her love for me, mine for her,
The Love of the Creator
For us all, and the love which
Flows from each of us
As the Second Commandment
Shouts out from the
Shores of Down-East Maine
And then echoes back
Out into Penobscot Bay…!
Leo Carroll
October 14, 2021
“Papa, look! A heart!” and
My granddaughter
Extends her wrinkled
And waterlogged palm to
Show me the mercy
And message come fresh
From the cold sea,
Her hand innocent, her
Face in awe and
Wonder, sensing that
Her Papa would see what she
Herself believes…
Chipmunk
Click for meditationRegarding "Chipmunk"
And so I saw a summer
Chipmunk – standing on its hind legs
Like it was part of the Lewis
And Clark Expedition and
Staring in awe at what is now
Called Yellowstone Park!
It stood as tall as it absolutely
Could, ramrod straight,
And was perfectly still lest it
Disturb a single blade
Of grass on the infinite plain
Before it…So engrossed
It seemed in ‘something,’
Fascinated, mesmerized, that
It dared almost not to
Breathe…and then
It relented, its chest relaxing,
And it moved serenely
Into my flower bed –
A mere ten feet away –
Its answer to the meaning of
Existence contained in
What a lemon-yellow daylily
On its face had to say.
Leo Carroll
September 25, 2021
Up’n its hind legs,
Stretching its tendons to almost
Breaking while peering o’er
The summer grass, a
Chipmunk surveils the vast,
Unlimited prairie
Before its gaze, perhaps
Looking for love or food or
Danger or something
I can imagine not,
But all it sees is a
Thursday morning –
Dawned like all others –
Except that for a
Few seconds I captured
Its contemplation
Of the universe’s infinite
Landscape…until it
Settled on my garden a
Mere ten feet away, and knew
It was seeing whate’er
It would e’er need
To see…or e’er hope for
In answered prayer.
Plumeria
Click for meditationRegarding "Plumeria"
There is an enclave in
Secunderabad, India, in the
Indian state of Telangana, where
A woman faithfully tends
Her simple, but astounding
Garden. There is an
Aspect to her work which
May be in remembrance of her
Father, a long-serving, decorated
Senior officer and doctor in
The Indian Army, who
Was also, himself, a devoted
Gardener. Although I have
Never visited this garden,
I liken the garden to a
Mythical haven for pilgrims
Aspiring to reach a higher
Indian plane. It is a floral
Masterpiece of beauty, and is a
Soothing sanctuary from
The snares and toils
Of daily life. And most
Importantly, it could be
Thought of as a bulwark and
Respite against evil,
Particularly the worldwide
Evil of the Covid virus
Which is rampaging within
India this very hour.
In this garden is the sweet,
White plumeria flower,
Which emits a fragrance
Impervious to this evil – and
Its self-effacing meekness
And innocence are what make it
So wondrous! Indeed, in
Some regions of India, the plumeria
Is considered a sacred flower,
And is believed to reside
At the highest level of heaven,
Home to the Hindu god,
Sri Krishna. In that context,
The plumeria’s perfume
Could be thought of as a
Natural antidote to anything
Which would want to do harm…
And its wafting scent also
A tribute to the dignity
Of the woman who planted
It and who tends it so lovingly — as
Would likewise her father in
The shadows, and for India
Still on guard…
Leo Carroll
May 6, 2021
What sacred grace, what
Staunchness, standing like it is
At the ramparts of heaven’s
Gate, the sweet face of plumeria,
Granting entrance to only
The meek and humble
Of heart, because each petal
Softens the arrogance of
Any other dreaded weight or
Earthly power…O’ champak,
As you are also called,
The palace guard perfumed
To all swaddled within
Your kingdom’s walls…
And to even contemplate how
You can so indomitably
Bloom – and not one
Of your five white petals
Flinches, no matter the
Covid fever which ravages
Within India’s bosom…!
Poem Word
Click for meditationRegarding "Poem Word"
When I was in the sixth grade,
We once had a guest teacher who came
Into the classroom to give a tutorial
On how to prepare for a
National examination which
My elementary school was going
To participate in. Her specialty
Was teaching about the English portion
Of the test, and she was
Giving us tips on how to work
Fast, but effectively, through the
Multiple choice and
Essay parts of the exam.
As she was speaking to us,
She paused and posed a question
To the class. It went something
Like this, “Who would be a
More conscientious,
Diligent student? Would it
Be the one who worked
Fast through the test, using all
The best test-taking techniques, and
Scored highest, or would it
Be the person who slowed down
During the test in order to
Choose the most appropriate word
To use in an essay paragraph,
But consequently losing
Valuable time and scoring lower?”
It was as if she had realized,
Mid-class, she was caught
Between two opposing poles or
Reasonings of thought —
Test fast and effectively, or
Take your time and do
Everything to the best
Of your ability. I bring this up,
Because when I was recently writing
A short poem, my thought train was flowing
Smoothly, and the whole poem was
Unfolding rapidly before me,
All in a matter of seconds…and then
I stopped and paused to
Weigh the right word, found it,
But then it disappeared…because it was
Only allowed to dawdle in my
Ether space for so long!
I was never able to recall and
Recapture the word, but the whole
Episode made me reminisce
Of that long ago teacher.
In my mind she still lives!
She was an accomplished,
Well-spoken, stately woman,
And she eventually told my
Sixth grade class that the true
Better student was the one searching
For the best word choice in
The examination essay!
Leo Carroll
March 7, 2021
A wisp of a word like a
Snowflake alight’ng a birch’s
Winter ground, a wisp
As quickly melted and
Forgott’n no matter the
Beauty of its sound nor the
Search it be found,
A wisp scurrying off with
Its consonants and
Vowels and meanings and
Contexts…because for a mere
Moment I’d paused,
And in that lull my neurons
Foundered and on
Sea rocks splintered…
Cold Moon
("Love")
Click for meditationRegarding "Cold Moon"
A December full moon
Is referred to as a
“Cold Moon.” It can also
Be called the “Long Night Moon,”
Because it occurs so close
To the winter solstice, and is
Associated with the
Longest night of the year.
If the skies are clear,
It can be an absolutely
Beautiful sight,
Bright white-yellow
In color. And it was on such
A clear night when I
Happened to open
My front door and stick
My head outside to
Take a deep breath of fresh
Air, and I saw it – a
Beautiful orb in the night
Blackness, and
Peering down at me
Through branches almost
Bare of their big,
Pie-plate sized oak leaves.
I stepped out the door
Onto my front walkway and
Just peered up at it,
Amazed that such a spectacle
Could ever exist…and
Particularly just for me!
And then I remembered that
This was not the first
Time I had stared up in a
Mesmerized fashion
At a Cold Moon! It had
Happened years and years
Before as well, and under that
Long ago sky with such
A marvelous moon, I had
Whispered about
Something that only
The Cold Moon heard…
And which memory of e’en
Now can still cast me
Into a December swoon…
Leo Carroll
March 15, 2021
A cold moon, really cold
In its name and the
Gleam of its Decemb’r bloom,
Shining through branches
Of barren oak, the
Same oak tree which
Years ago listened…when
I whispered of something I’d
Ne’er before of
Spoke…