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Deerfield’s Words

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Regarding "Deerfield’s Words"

I love being in the
Woods, and I absolutely love
Looking for a stone wall
With a comfortable combination
Of rocks for my back
To lean against. My eyes
Have grown accustomed to
Quickly scanning the
Exterior facade of stone
Walls, and then zeroing in on
A section which looks
To be a good candidate
To sit on the ground
And nestle against.
The goal always is to
Blend into the wall as
Much as possible, and to
Become synonymous with the
Woods surrounding me.
On first impression, the woods
And wall may seem quiet
And still, but there is,
In fact, much to consider –
From how the light
Breaks through the trees,
The wind ruffles the
Autumn leaves, the spider
Crawls curiously on my
Shoulder, the chipmunk
Puffs up its brave
Chest and flexes its
Muscles, the chickadees
Stop by and occasionally brush
My cheek, the ever-present
Raven circles above,
The jay calls in the
Distance in annoyance
At something, and the
Eight Inch spruce sparkles
In newborn green…
All while I keep slightly
Shifting my position
And invariably manage
To fall asleep, and
During which the stone
Wall stoically ponders and
Wonders about me,
And the trunks of the
Trees in amazement
Peer over in strength, and
Shake their heads
At the degree of my
Weakness…

Leo Carroll
March 15, 2019

 

Searching for a Spot along an Old Stone Wall

I search, looking
For those perfect stones, as if
Made from a shop press,
Against which my
Back to lean, my body
To conform. I
Follow this wall, and
It keeps me on a
Heading east-west,
As if a farm horse by
The bridle, being led home
To its night’s rest…
And then through
The oaks and beeches
I see them — grey, rough
Stones, mottled in
Shades of black
And green lichen —
The sweet, autumn
Fruit of some
Builder’s tireless,
Calloused work,
Against which I’ll
Nestle, until is
Whispered what
Comes to be heard.
 

In the Woods against a Stone Wall

They sit as they’ve
Always sat – these woods as if
Jewels, as if decreed by
Primeval fiat. Oak and spruce
Stoically watch me in my
Every move and mood,
Content to leave me quiet if
I promise their wooden
Fiefdom not to disturb nor
Intrude. They watch
Me, reading my flesh’s
Mind and its flight, and
Then shake their heads slowly,
Because they know I
Have not yet mastered the
Fine art of sitting in a
Stone wall’s silence.

Leo Carroll
November 13, 2014
Deerfield, New Hampshire



Photos by Fabrizio Conti and Matthew Smith (via Unsplash.com)

Running on Wings

(Finding Grace at "Station Ten" in Boot Camp)

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Regarding "Running on Wings"

Some years ago, I
Injured my right leg and ankle.
I had always been athletic, and loved
Playing sports, so when I
Lost the ability to
Run, fully run, it was a
Big loss to me. I missed the
Freedom to exert myself at a very
High level, and I realized I
Had to change my approach, or
My health would deteriorate. And
So I started to concentrate on
What I could do rather
Than what I couldn’t do,
And I discovered I could
Compensate for my lack of
Mobility in other ways.
I added swimming to
My exercise regimen, then
Weight training, stationary bike
Riding, and many other things.
I eventually began to take
Physical fitness classes.
This lead to one class called,
“Boot Camp,” in which
I was subjected to
A wide set of activities,
One being to run between
Two fluorescent-orange, floor cones.
When I first attempted this,
It was very difficult,
Because I ran with a limp. But
I kept trying, and my limp
Became less, and I finally reached the
Point of being able to slowly jog –
And I felt like my feet
Had wings, eagle’s wings, and
It was as if my body was
Lifted off the litter to soar…

Leo Carroll
November 7, 2018

 

I find myself running on feet
As if they were surely eagle-winged,
When I once thought I would
Ne’er run again, until, that is, my
Healing would come when I walked
Those tall, sweet grasses in the
Fair meadows of Elysium…
But here I am now, my gait
Restored to where I can at least
Meekly jog, and so I race back and
Forth between two fluorescent cones, as
If my feet were finally loosed of the earthen
Cords which kept them bound…

Leo Carroll
May 29, 2014
Westford Regency Health Club



Photo by Scott Lewis

Savasana in Winter

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Regarding "Savasana in Winter"

We are a society which relies on
Science and technology to explain things to us, and to
Make easier our lives now and into the future.
In other parts of the world, this is not
Necessarily so much the case, but here in the
United States, science and technology rule
Our daily lives. And so, when things happen
Which are not readily explainable, we are
Perplexed and left looking for answers…
As a simple example, how often is it
That when we are strongly thinking about
Someone that we by chance then
Happen to meet them at a gasoline
Station or while shopping in a
Supermarket, or when a loved one
Comes into our mind who is deceased,
That the next thing we see is their
Favorite bird…? Ordinary things.
Everyday occurrences. And so on and on…
These things to me are mysteries
Which shout out that something
Bigger than we are is at work and is not
Readily explainable, at least as far as
We can understand. About five years ago
I was in an early morning yoga class,
And towards the end of the hour
The yoga instructor asked us to lie
Back onto our mats into savasana pose,
Where we would typically spend
Five to ten minutes in a meditative,
Almost trance-like, relaxing state.
On this particular day, as my mind
Started to relax, it still tangentially clung
Onto something which I had been previously
Thinking about. Then, as I was lying in
My savasana pose, I felt something
Lightly nudge my extended right hand.
The gentle contact got my attention,
And then I felt it again…and
Again…and so I slightly raised my
Head to peek, and there snuggling
Next to my hand was a little red
Medicine ball. Where it came from I
Do not know! The yoga class had
Not been using these, but somehow
This little red ball had probably rolled out of the
Classroom closet and crept across the
Hardwood floor and found me, and started
Touching me, not just once but multiple
Times, in a comforting, consoling way.
It was as if my flesh was being
Tended to by an inanimate object!
And strangely, I immediately sensed that
What I had been thinking about
Was going to be okay…

Leo Carroll
March 7, 2019

 

I felt it on my right hand,
A touch, a very light, imperceptible
Touch, an almost tender form of
Intimate communication and connection
And unexpected affection — when
I was otherwise immersed
In the midst of settling slowly
Into my meditation, and waiting up’n
A trance to relieve my mind —
I felt it, and then again, and
So I raised my head slightly from
My yoga mat to take a discreet,
Quick peek, and there,
Behold, nudging me with soft
Persistence and love was a
Small, red medicine ball,
Six inches in diameter, which
Had somehow rolled itself across the
Infinite expanse of the universe,
And was now reminding me
I was not alone, and any earthen
Concern was fleeting when
Before Creation’s power
Was compared…

Leo Carroll
Winter 2014
Westford Regency Health Club
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Anna Novak
Snapdragons

Snapdragons at First Frost

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Regarding "Snapdragons at First Frost"

The snapdragon is my favorite
Flower. It is both fragile
And gentle in appearance, but
Very hardy, lasting even
Into December.
When I saw a bunch of
Magenta-colored
Snapdragons
Brimming with the
Crystals of the
Season’s first frost,
They were surrounded
By bright orange
And yellow marigolds
Posed like sentinels,
Themselves
Maybe the plainest
Of flowers, but
In my mind the most
Consistent and
Reliable…On that
Frosty morning, it seemed
Like Beauty was
Being guarded by
Duty, and Duty was
Being blessed by
Beauty. My mood was
Snatched from
Winter, and made
To contemplate what I
Was meant to see
In autumn.

Leo Carroll
April 26, 2018

 

They stand so stoically,
Seemingly silent against the cold, but
Warm against my chest they are,
And cradled by loyal marigolds…
They stand resilient, resolute,
As if still residing in kind
Summer, but it is winter
Which lives in my heart, and
I thank Creation for the magenta of
Their autumn saving color.

Leo Carroll
October 31, 2013
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Leo Carroll

Climbing Meg’s Mountain

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Regarding "Climbing Meg’s Mountain"

This poem was written
Less than 12 months after I had joined
A new health club in the town where I lived, and
It also coincided with a period in my life
When I was in need of rejuvenation. I found myself
Taking part in my first-ever, spinning ‘Pedal to End Cancer’
Fundraiser. The lead instructor for the three hour
Ride was a whirling dervish, who took us on
A very intensive, cardio-demanding,
Simulated mountain climb, all to the
Pulsating sounds and cadence of great music. For
One straight hour she pounded us with
An endless barrage of merciless
Spinning commands and exhortations,
Which appeared to have no end to them…
She seemed oblivious to any and all
Difficulties we had keeping up with her!
It was our job to do what we had
To do! As part of completing that
Strenuous, wild ride, I was also
Reminded of the tremendous challenges
Occurring in the lives of other people,
Particularly with respect to cancer. And so
Today, right now, I look back with so
Much gratitude to that first ‘Pedal to End
Cancer’ experience, and I thank that
Spinning instructor for helping to lift me up
Out of myself, and for enabling me to
See that if cancer survivors could endure
Years, even decades, of debilitating
Treatment just to live one more day, then
I could do a mere three hour ride, and I could
Express gratitude for what I had received
As blessings in my life.

Leo Carroll
March 5, 2019

 

“Pump it!…, Push it!…”

“Keep back in your saddle!…”

“Keep your peddle strokes
Even and smooth!…”

“We’re going to do ‘jumps’
To the count of two – – up!…, up!…, up!…”

“We have a double chorus!!!…”

“Slide!…, Slide!…, Slide!…”

“Down to hand position three!…”

“Keep your elbows loose and relaxed,
And tucked into your body!…”

“Back in lohhhhwww!!!…”

“Keep working, keep working!…,
Watch your cadence!…”

.
.
.

…And thus on and on and without mercy, her
Commands continue and cascade and escalate, one upon the other,
Relentless, unyielding, pounding, driving me into the ground, and I know on this
Sunday morning that any mountain, this mountain, can be climbed
With the exhortation and aid of this endless
Fusillade from a ponytailed woman in the female form of an
Absolutely whirling tornado, and all I have
To do is “pump it”, and any doubt and despair can
Be conquered by my spinning flywheel, and cancer can
Inexorably be crushed and tossed into the fathomless dustbin
With its twin gargoyles of terror and fear.

Leo Carroll
March 24, 2013
Westford Regency Health Club



Photo by Rikki Chan (via Unsplash.com)