Change
Night Coming
(Matthew 10:34,39)
As if arising from a
Molten-hot volcano You are,
Heat from heat, flaming
Oranges and pinks
In an unimaginable
Power athwart an early
Night sky – the Word
Become Inferno, to
Sear with a sword and to
Lay waste what still
Slithers the Garden of
Eden outside…
Eternity’s Sea
Out it froths, as from
An inexhaustible fount of Word,
From a Source far beyond
All creature knowledge, but
Yet a humble foam eager
To greet my footprints
Face to face on the beach,
My steps, those of a pilgrim come
From afar like once did three
Wise visitors from the east,
When the tremendous roar of a
Rushing sea across sand
And stars was heard, and was
Forever altered the countenance
Of God… when it took
On the image of an infant
In a poor stable, and in the
Newborn’s hand was clenched
A sword of straw.
O Maple Tree
Click for meditationRegarding "O Maple Tree"
Every year I am
Susceptible to the whims of
Autumnal melancholy. Whether it
Is due to the falling leaves
Delivering an emphatic
Message of earthly
Impermanence, and
Rekindling within me the
Furies of things I would re-do
Differently, or the
Good things I have
Known and are now no
More, or something else…
But in its final gasps of
Change, fall is spectacularly
Beautiful and comforting – – setting an
Unmatchable standard of self
Sacrifice and duty, right
Up to the last leaves to fall and
The final glimpses of their
Wonderful, fading glory,
Particularly if I had kneeled
Down over them and
Was marveling how their
Plentitude must rival
The stunning miracle of the
Loaves and fishes as
They once laid multiplied
And displayed near the
Sea of Galilee.
Leo Carroll
November 21, 2021
O maple tree, your
Leaves lie crinkled beneath
My knees, but their
Yellow tatters still speak
In little whispers
Of warmth and love,
The kind that autumn
Spawns, tho’ it be “change”
In its goodbye hug.
Gifts
Suffering is the yeast
Which brings us to grow spiritually…
And God is the eternal
“I AM WHO I AM,”
During the e’er changing
Nature and faces of
Our pilgrim’s journeying…
Crosscurrents
Buffeted and
Battered I am, caught between
Crosscurrents raging and
Frothing from God
And my flesh’s rogue self…
This as I try to navigate
Betwixt beguiling, siren
Songs, and the beautiful
Imperatives from
Buoys to hold steadfast
And strong…