Winter Sky
Click for meditationRegarding "Winter Sky"
The affect on me of
Canadian geese is inexplicable,
But the sight and sound of
Their flying overhead stop me in
My tracks every time.
There is something
Which is roused deep
Within me that has no
Limit in depth nor fathom.
I sometimes believe I encountered them
In some long ago past, and
When I first saw them
Way-back-then, they were
Likewise beating their
Way through a snow-sky.
Perhaps something happened
That forgotten day,
But every once in a while
They fly back again into my life,
And my mind begins to
Wonder what is that something
Which is being replayed…?
Leo Carroll
February 6, 2019
I hear them
Coming before I see them,
And I instantaneously
Stand stock-still, barely
Breathing, anticipating them —
Canadian geese in
Arrow-flight formation,
Beating their wings
Against a snow-cold sky, just
Like they once did flying over a
Primeval cave mouth
And in my hand
Was a sling which I
Let drop limply to my side,
And I watched them
Then as I do now,
Entranced as they
Plow ahead into the
Dark and soon-storm,
Not fighting its force but
Savoring it, their heads
Pointed straight into
What awaits them,
Their beaks confident
At the forefront of
Their phalanx, and ready
To be the first spears
To pierce into the
Winter’s teeth.
Winter Blessings
Click for meditationRegarding "Winter Blessings"
All it took was the
Meditative rhythm of the
Sound of light rain falling on
A small garden bed
Covered in old oak and
Maple leaves, to
Soothe the seas of
My mood, and then
Adding to this calming
Effect was the soft sound of the
Same rain hitting the
Mossy and mottled
Rocks of an adjacent,
Worn stone wall …
Reminding me once
Again that the gifts from
Creation actually
Occur all year-round,
Not just in spring or
Summer or fall,
But in winter when
First impulse might be
To don sackcloth
And ashes, but instead
The January drizzle
Wags its finger and says,
“No, not at all …!”
Leo Carroll
January 11, 2019
I hear
The pitter-patter of light
Rain on leaves, maple and oak and
What else lies hibernating between, and
I hear an even softer sound
As it lands on a nearby
Stone wall’s mottled moss,
Green and grey in blotches, an old
Coat from the colonial era,
But to me now like new
Wineskin cloth . . . and
Thus my ears listen intently,
Interpreting, soothed by
This revelation and nurture
Alive in my January garden,
When winter would
Otherwise harness me
To my mood, and it wouldn’t
Be until the first crocus’s
Song that I’d dare consider what
Spring’s freedom could
Loose.
Isaiah 55: 8
Matthew 11: 28-30
Click for meditationRegarding "Isaiah 55: 8
Matthew 11: 28-30"
So many times with
Life I have arm wrestled, when it
Would have made far better
Sense to relent, to relax, and to
Go with the inevitable flow of
Circumstances around me …
How many things in life
Are truly important?
How many things really
Demand a claim of victory?
The older I have gotten,
The fewer and fewer things I
Have offered in answer …
Everything cannot
Be important, and as it
Turns out, not much actually is.
What is important, though,
Is to look around and be
Aware of the bountiful
Blessings available to each of us.
Every day and in every way,
Nature speaks. Beauty is
The de facto, eternal
Word of God, just
Like a lamb grazing,
Accepting what is in front
Of its face, freely-begotten,
Wonderful to the taste, in a
Pasture, in a green, well-watered,
Sheltered space.
Leo Carroll
January 7, 2019
“It is better to be
A lamb than a lion,”
Enters like a
Sweet zephyr into
My whirling
Subconscious,
And then added
For emphasis,
“My yoke rests
Easier on fleece
Than the wild mane of
Your flesh …”
Wagon Wheel
Click for meditationRegarding "Wagon Wheel"
A wagon wheel is faithful,
Always ready to roll…the only time
It stops working is when
It breaks and needs
Fixing, or when it
Is too old to be repaired.
Wagon wheels are
Held in mystical esteem.
Anytime someone drives in a rural
Area, even in an area which
Is no longer rural, it is
Possible to come upon a
Wagon wheel leaning against
A stone wall, a tree,
A barn, or something else.
They are rarely discarded.
They are respected.
Sometimes they are revered.
They are reminders of a
Simpler time of life – hard working
And dutiful. The lupines
In the photograph know what
The old days were like.
They grew then, just
As they also grow now.
Their collective memory
Knows the importance
And meaning of a wagon
Wheel. That is why they stand
In homage around the grey, weathered
Rim and spokes, and listen
To the stories…stories of what the
Wheels and their wagons once did, before
They became tired and broken and
Weathered and…
Leo Carroll
December 13, 2018
At last it has come to rest,
An old wagon wheel weathered, with its
Wizened spokes pointed outward
As if still poised in
Yesteryear’s duty-radius.
No more turns now, no
More thoughts of service, just a green field
Of lupines, to bind its
Wooden wounds in June’s
Glorious fervor.
And so it sits, alone
And at ease until gloaming’s end, alone
Except for lupines, and the
Lavender praise and reverence
Of their hymns.
Thicket
Click for meditationRegarding "Thicket"
A thicket, particularly
One in the middle of the woods,
Can be so intimidating
Because of the prospect of
Getting lost within it.
If you go in, you may not easily
Come out! It is common
To lose your bearings,
Even with a compass.
As an example, I was once
In a spruce thicket in
The Maine woods with
Someone else. He was no
More than 15 feet to my
Right, and we were
Both dressed in blaze-orange
Clothing. I lost sight of
Him! If it was not for
The fact I could hear him,
I would not have known
He was there! A thicket can
Be a metaphor for life —
Scary, daunting, confusing —
But, if you keep your
Head and stay calm, all should
Be alright. The old saying is,
“What doesn’t kill you
Makes you stronger.”
On the other side of a thicket
Comes a tremendous confidence
Boost upon exiting.
This also happens with
Major life events – death,
Divorce, job loss, illness, handicap,
Financial disaster, etc. These
Things are part of our pilgrim’s path.
They can be very painful,
But can lead to tremendous,
Personal character growth, just
Like leaving a thicket…
Leo Carroll
December 5, 2018
If I e’er
Entered this place,
Would I be
Able to find
My way back out,
Or would I get
Lost in a tangled
Maze of conflicting
Directions,
Decisions, and
Doubts, thus
Leaving me
Turned ’round
And ’round about, or
Would I be fine,
This apparent
Obstacle
But a further
Steppingstone
Along my
Winding
Path, and each
Straw-hued
Swamp
Stalk just a
Walking stick,
For me to depend
Up’n and to
Have…?