Bible
Genesis
…And so, despite being
Sternly warned, Lot’s wife was
Turned into a pillar of salt
When she inexplicably looked back
At the very instant of
Sodom and Gomorrah’s
Annihilating destruction.
She was vaporized instantaneously
By a blinding flash beyond
All description, which ravaged
The land making it unrecognizable…
I have wondered if this infamous
Biblical story with all its
Wild imagery could somehow be
Applied to understanding
The importance of
Living in the present
Moment and not looking
Back at what we once
Had or knew in the past…
Because there is no surer way
For a heart to be hardened
And for lifeblood to be
Clotted and curdled
Than to excessively obsess
A real or perceived loss
Or unfortunate turn
Of events and to endure the
Ensuing fallout from the
Unbearable mourning
Or anger. We are intended to
Keep moving along our
Life’s path, just as Lot’s wife
Was admonished to do,
But she turned around — and
Thus she who was born of flesh of
The womb was transformed
Into immutable stone.
We likewise become lifeless
When we fixate upon
Something from our past,
Because, like it or not,
Our path is meant to be
Traveled, and stopping and
Looking back is an anathema
To Creation’s way of
Rounding, smoothing, and
Teaching us. In short, we cannot
Learn if we are frozen in
Time, and our eyes have become
Clothed in scales as if we
Stand motionless like a
Monument in Death Valley…
Climbing
Click for meditationRegarding "Climbing"
In one of
The Gospel stories,
Jesus is tempted when
He is shown all the vast riches
Of the world, and is told
All of these could be
His if only He, Jesus, would
Relent and worship Satan…
Whether a Christian Believer or not,
All of us can relate to this
Story in some respect, because
We are all “tempted”
In life to give in to earthly
Desires, and to ignore the
Blessings of Creation which
Abound all around us
And also within us.
In a variation of that
Gospel theme, when I recently saw a
Tree stump with fungi growing
Out of its sides like steps,
It reminded me (again) how
My own life is a work in
Progress, and how each latticed
Foothold of fungus was a
Metaphor for something very
Significant in my life, and that when
I someday do finally reach the
Zenith of my journey – – what I will
See will be not the riches
Of the world as I sit the
Roughhewn, splintery seat of the
Stump, but the nearby rock
Garden it overlooked, filled with
The floral faces and blessings
Of all that which God
To me had so lovingly and
Naturally and freely always
Provided…
Leo Carroll
September 16, 2019
Up each latticed
Fungus I crawl, hand
O’er hand scrambling to reach
The summit of a tree
Stump’s throne.
“What am I king of?”
I muse, as I finally sit atop the
Weather’d hardwood cut.
“Surely my domain
Contains naught of earthly
Riches, but just the
Love and affection of
My garden’s
Faithful hearts.”
Love
Click for meditationRegarding "Love"
I was recently sitting
In a waiting room in Stoneham and
Listening for my name to be
Called for my ophthalmology
Examination. It is still not clear to
Me what happened next,
But I sensed someone was
Standing in front of me and
Staring at me. I raised
My head slowly to look up,
And there was this little
Boy, perhaps six or seven years
Old, and he had a smile
On his face. As soon as our
Eyes connected, he said
Something quickly to me which
Came out in a burst, like a
Digital stream of binary
Information. I could not
Understand a word of it,
But whatever he said, it was
Obviously important to him from
His facial earnestness looking at me.
Before I had a chance to
Respond, however, a young woman
Quietly appeared beside him,
Gently took his hand,
And as she started to
Turn to lead him back to a
Chair in the waiting room,
She gave me a knowing nod,
As if to convey she knew
That for a few seconds
Her son and I had connected in a
Mysterious, spiritual bond.
Leo Carroll
February 20, 2019
I feel his presence before
I see him, a young boy perhaps six
Years old who now stands several feet
In front of me, almost as if an
Apparition he so suddenly appears,
Like a rush of wind and then the
Paraclete’s breath upon my face,
And he smiles but his attempt
To speak is garbled and unintelligible —
At least in a worldly way that I can
Understand — and then his mother
Walks up softly and takes hold his hand,
And gently leads him away to
A seat in the waiting room’s
Sheepfold … while I in my
Chair am left wondering in
Awe of the message spoken by his
Incomprehensible words, and
Why he had picked me to be
Culled from out of the herd to
Hear his vocal cords struggle
In stanza and verse?
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 …”
From the Field
Click for meditationRegarding "From the Field"
There is a field in the
Middle of the Maine woods,
Which functions for me
As if a prayer carpet before
A glistening farmhouse
Which rises above
It in the distance.
Holier than any place
Of worship, this
Field, in turn, bows
Before the farmhouse
To which it points.
Every time I have
Stood in that field,
The farmhouse has
Appeared as if it was
Caesarea in the Gospels,
A veritable shining city
Upon a hill, and a
Beacon to anyone
In search of coming into
The presence of their
Higher Power. And as
If trying to mark my path
To the Kingdom of God, I always
Take my compass out
And take a reading of the
Farmhouse’s direction from me.
The bearing never changes –
It is north northwest,
As dependable as
The eternal love of God.
Leo Carroll
December 5, 2018
I come in awe
Before this mountain,
Embraced by tall
Autumn grasses as I
Peer up at what
On a sun-facing slope
Rests – a far-away,
Familiar white
Farmhouse, ablaze
In sunlight like it
Was disseminating
God’s Word to alight
Upon my head…
And then an inner
Voice prompts me
To re-check the
Compass heading of
This object holding my
Spellbound gaze,
And as always the
Precise needle of
Creation points the same,
“Son, the bearing and
Path for you to
My farmhouse lies
As the croaking raven
Flies — north by
Northwest.”