The Notebook
Click for meditationRegarding "The Notebook"
The most important thing I do
Every day is to write.
It is my life. It is my balm.
It is peaceful. It is
The one dependable
Action I take which is sure
Any raging waters
To calm. It is a gift to me.
Unmerited. It casts
A fence around me as
If I was reclined in the sweet
Sheepfold of Psalm 23.
It could even be
Viewed as my version
Of the Kingdom of Heaven,
That blessed seed
Bestowed within each of us,
Which has the
Potential to leaven into
A majestic, flowering tree.
Leo Carroll
October 2, 2018
Would this notebook
Be able to keep me afloat in
A raging sea, its paper,
Once wood, a life
Preserver’s giving me
Buoyancy, or,
Would last sight of
Me be with an arm
Raised high, notebook
Held up to the last,
And then down,
Down deep, gone,
Below the waves and
Into the vast…?
On the Beach
Click for meditationRegarding "On the Beach"
Sometimes,
Sometimes it may seem
As if everything
Has crumbled down
Upon you and all
Around you…
It may very well have, at
Least from your
Perspective…but
Sooner or later,
Though, the sun lifts
Above the horizon, the
Moon rises, the
Tide pulls back, and
The first crocus
Shows the
Beginnings of
Spring…
Leo Carroll
April 22, 2018
What broke me
Down came like a dark,
Rogue sea, from
All directions
Without hint of mercy.
But now that the
Waters have pulled
Back, they leave
Me on the
Beach basking,
Like a grain
Of sand burnished,
The starless night having
Passed…
The Saints
Click for meditationRegarding "The Saints"
Each day, without
Recourse to being able to
Avoid even one tide,
Each and every
Sand grain on the
Beach is washed and
Washed again,
With no expectation
Of reprieve, and
Certainly no reprieve
Received, each
Day, every day,
Bathed by
Incoming and
Outgoing tides,
Like a pilgrim
On a path not
Knowing when
Comes the journey’s
End, just that
Its duty is to feel
The water’s
Surge and in its
Ears to hear
The roar, and that
Someday its
Task will be
Mercilessly done,
When on that
Judgment Day the
Heralds sing.
Leo Carroll
April 30, 2018
When of I think the
Waves which daily
Pound this beaten shore, all the
More I bow before the
Grains of sand,
Which upon Creation’s
Beach put their
Humble backs to each
Tide’s oars.
Peace
Click for meditationRegarding "Peace"
Nowhere can be better
Seen the majesty of all Creation than
At the seashore of this
Glorious earth. Just even a few
Moments alone on the beach in the
Company of all the nameless grains of sand
And seashells and stones
Cannot help but
Give the startling impression
Of the overwhelming
Power and magnitude of
Creation…and yet, at every high tide,
The waves come in and caress
Each grain of sand and shell as if
Their only task that day
Was to wash each one and
To make them lamb-like clean,
As if this was the first time
And not the infinite occasion
That they were being bathed,
And no task was more
Important that day than buffing holy
Their sheen with the tide…
Leo Carroll
April 16, 2018
Washed all clean,
Like in an Elysian Fields
Dream, was
Placed a beach,
Where onto its
Sands in rolling
Fealty came
Breakers and foam
In trembling and
Kneeling…
Daydream
Click for meditationRegarding "Daydream"
One day I had a
Daydream about a small, glass
Milk bottle being placed
Against my front door,
And within it was the lone stalk
Of a flower, cocked
At a casual angle,
Simply done, but
Wonderful and welcome.
I’ve often wondered
Who placed that
Flower in a bottle?
It was such a generous
And kind thing to do,
Even if it was an invention
Of my mind, and the
Intent was only to lift my
Fictional mood…
Leo Carroll
August 12, 2018
A flower once
Stood at the outside of
My doorway, a
Lone stalk cocked
At an angle
In a simple glass
Bottle.
Who picked this
Flower and with care
Placed it there?
That remains known
To only the
Flower in the
Bottle…