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…
Christmas
Click for meditationRegarding "Christmas"
Sometimes
My mind is unable to rest,
As if it was on its own
Independent mission, and
I was along for the
Ride as an involuntary,
E’en unwelcome
Guest…My mind can
Seem like it is freewheeling
With its neurons running
Wild on pathways
Forming new synapses…!
But somehow on
Christmas Eve, Something
Greater Than I laid
Down the gauntlet for
Me to hush, and my mind
Slowed down as if it
Pulled off a rural
Exit ramp, and I exhaled
A big breath as a child
Born 2000 years ago once
More let out its first
Cry, and the attending
Animals stretched out
In awe beneath the winter’s
Night’s sky…
Leo Carroll
December 29, 2020
No poem cometh…and
Momentarily I am
Mute in the
Silence…and e’en
My unharnessed thoughts
Are made to be
Bridled and to bow,
As my mind recuses
Itself before the
Awe of today’s humble
Majesty, and I realize
To do nothing is
All I am allowed.
Light in Dark
Click for meditationRegarding "Light in Dark"
I once read “art is creation.”
I cannot recall the name
Of the person who first said it,
But I believe the statement
To be true. And if art
Is creation, then in an
Infinitesimally small way,
Art contributes to the
Ongoing creation process of
The Big Bang…And so
In this context I continue
To write, actually more than
Usual in this time of Covid,
Because nothing can
Overcome the original
Creative power of the
Source of Creation!
And if art has been given
To me, even in the most
Insignificant of ways,
I can carry it in front of me
As an amulet of light –
To ward off the serpentine,
Evil forces of Covid’s
Dark and gloom.
Leo Carroll
December 20, 2020
Every night
I light my lights, and
Make my rounds
The dark despite,
And every
Night, room to
Room, into
The corners I peer
To illum…