Beauty
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.
Colors of Armistice
Click for meditationRegarding "Colors of Armistice"
On a grey and cold November day
In 1929, eighty nine years ago,
My father was working with my
Grandfather cutting firewood in the
Backyard. My father was eight
Years old, and the First World War
Had ended 11 years before.
All of a sudden, the “whistles”
Went off in the town, and
My father was startled. He asked
My grandfather what the
Whistles were for, and my
Grandfather told him that the
“War” had ended at that
Very hour, 11 years before…
My father never forgot
That moment, and every Armistice
Day, or Veterans Day as it is
Now called in the United States,
He would tell me the story.
Fast forward fifty six years later
To 1985, and I was living in Belgium.
It was common in Europe for
People to wear a small red poppy
In their lapel on Armistice Day because of the
Great poem, “In Flanders Fields,” written in 1915
By Canadian Lieutenant Colonel and doctor, John McCrae.
At the time of the poem, beautiful red
Poppies were seen to be growing up out of the
Grasses where dead soldiers were hastily
Buried in Ypres, Belgium. And so my
Memories became even further stirred
On November 11th every year…
Now I will always go out into my garden
On that day, and think of my
Father’s stories, and I will always
Look for a late autumn flower
To symbolize the beautiful red poppy.
This year I saw a pink daisy.
It stood in remembrance as well.
Leo Carroll
November 21, 2018
On this day,
Holy in the fields of
Flanders and
On the lapels o’er
Countless
Hearts,
Bloom
Poppies in the
Sacred
Color of
Vibrant red.
On this same
Day in a
Late autumn
Garden,
Blooms in
Solidarity a pink
Daisy,
Affirming in
Remembrance
There is no
Death…
Asking Judith
Click for meditationRegarding "Asking Judith"
In this poem, the daisies in
My rock garden speak, and they ask
A woman of quiet gardening
Renown to identify whether their
Blooms are Shasta, Sheffield, or Montauk?
All three of these daisy varieties
Are similar, and are a staple of
Autumn, and provide in their wonderful
Faces one last look at the
Fading warmth of the sun.
It is as if the beauty of fall clings
To their petals, and these
Dainty flowers smile for all they
Are worth…as if they
Think if they band together
And try hard enough —
They might even push back
The cold, which otherwise
For winter would place in cocoon
Their gentle souls…!
Leo Carroll
November 1, 2018
We defer to you, if you
Were to kindly agree, to discern
The proper name of our
Pretty, little daisies…
We believe we are Shasta, but
Sheffield and Montauk
Look like us, too, so if you
Would examine our leaves,
Perhaps you could settle
The lineage of our bloom…?
We’re not asking, though, that
You gage the quality of
Our autumnal beauty, because
Along this garden wall,
Our petals already reign
Supreme with their pink and
White heavenly purity…
Pink and White
Click for meditationRegarding "Pink and White"
I used to believe
A pilgrim’s path was
Composed of life events and
Challenges to “round”
The “rough edges” off of
A person, much like
A sand grain lying on the
Beach and being bathed by
Tidal flows, and as part
Of this marathon trek, a
Person could learn
And be taught…
The older I get, though, I
Have come to believe
A pilgrim’s path is meant
To be far more…that a
Pilgrim’s path is also comprised
Of steppingstones of comfort
And Beauty, and it is these
Latter two which can help
A person to persevere
And live a more peaceful life.
In short, a pilgrim’s journey
Is not just about being
Re-shaped and smoothed
By the events of life,
But by being helped and
Guided along the way by
The simple gifts of Creation —
Such as pink and white shasta daisies
On an autumn morning
Along a stone wall…
Leo Carroll
October 26, 2018
Could I
Meander along a
Prettier pilgrim’s path
Than this?
Could my eyes
Open
Any wider,
Lest any pink and
White beauty
Along this stone wall
I miss?
Maple Leaf
Click for meditationRegarding "Maple Leaf"
Of all leaves,
Maple leaves are my
Favorite, and of all the seasons,
I like the warmth of their
Hues in autumn the
Absolute best, and on this
Particular day it seemed
That one maple leaf
Of the most vibrant color red
Actually levitated over
The peridot waters of
Walden Pond, where the
Smoothed stones
Beneath the surface
Marveled at how a leaf
Could defy gravity —
And above the shallows
Dangle as if by the leash of
A golden thread.
Leo Carroll
October 22, 2018
A
Perfect
Maple leaf,
Autumnal and
Living-red,
Seems
O’er the
Surface as if to
Levitate —
Lest it
Dip its
Color into
The
Pond,
And
Dilute the
Work of
Walden’s
God.