Beauty
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…!
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…
Touching
Click for meditationRegarding "Touching"
How many people for whate’er
Reason are metaphorically cloistered behind
Barriers both visible and invisible,
Real and unreal, physical and not…?
I believe there are countless, and
Feel e’en that does not do justice to the
Actual number…! When I recently
Saw a photograph of yellow and
Violet flowers touching and rubbing
Against a drab, grey window pane,
I was immediately struck by how valiant
It was for them to be doing that!
Maybe they were simply attempting to
Connect with a lonely flower
Sitting in a musty, dry vase behind
The window panes, or maybe
They somehow sensed a human
Was secluded behind there, and their
Little yellow and violet petals
Could be the first steps towards
Liberating what (until then) had just
Been a lost manifestation of
Hopeless and powerless prayer…
But then Beauty came knocking
On the window, and that set
Loose the possibility for something
Or someone to rise up
And to live again…
Leo Carroll
November 15, 2020
Discreetly they reach,
Each trying to peek in and to touch…
Yellow and violet “somethings,”
Peering and looking, somehow suspecting
That on the oth’r side of the
Grey panes was “something else,”
And so their petals – with
Their colors and curiosity piqued –
Tap the glass to awaken
Whate’er is cloistered the
Cobwebs and mildew behind,
Because if the window
Could just be pried op’n a
Wee bit, could be breathed
E’erlasting fresh air by whate’er
Invisible lay hid…
At the Foot of the Ginkgo
Click for meditationRegarding "At the Foot of the Ginkgo"
Autumn gold… winter cold…
Existing in tandem when
One or t’other is needed to be
Held or to hold, how natural
It struck me, Creation again
Illustrating the seasonal role of
Each one of us — in the
Long march we are all on,
Their being a time to stumble
And a time to exalt, a
Time to be cold and a time
For a leaf to cuddle for warmth.
Leo Carroll
November 17, 2020
The purest leaves of
Gold which e’er fell from a tree,
Saffron-hued, suckled since birth when
Their buds emerged from spring’s
Maternity, now begin to
Release in the fulness
Of autumn’s hour, and cuddle
Easily with an early snow,
Lest they wait too long
And have to endure winter on
A cold ground hardened…
Red Maple Leaf
Click for meditationRegarding "Red Maple Leaf"
O’ how autumn casts
A spell up’n me, placing me into
An annual rite of reflection,
Making my September
And October susceptible to
All the memories composing
Who I am. The memories alight
Like chickadees whene’er
I hear a zephyr stirring
In the tops of trees, or see
The striking red plumage
Of maples doing their best to
To op’n my eyes to see,
Or as I sit the shores of Plum
Island and experience the
Hues of waves turning from
Cold to an e’en colder
Green…What heartstrings
Are pulled, sometimes I
Cannot e’en identify, ‘cept
I feel there is something
I am longing for…
And the transient beauty
Of fall and its fleeting
Glimpse are simply too
Irresistible for me
Not to savor and overly
Imbibe…
Leo Carroll
November 5, 2020
A single leaf, the red
Majesty of a maple before me
Pleased to be seen,
Something about it,
Something sublime,
Something I love, felt every
October when my
Reflection turns into
Waxing rhyme,
Something which
Uncannily lingers within
Me, cuddled ‘neath
The covers and spooning
Alongside my soul,
Winter soon to come,
But autumn’s colors
My brothers and sisters
From a long ago
Primeval old…