Faith
Storm at Dawn
Click for meditationRegarding "Storm at Dawn"
It does not take
Much to remind us we are
Separated from the cave
Mouth by only the
Slimmest and
Barest of margins…
All it requires is a
Frightening or terrorizing
Storm or natural
Disaster to reinforce
How tenuous
Everything is in this
Technologically-smug
Society. Witness
The severe 2018 volcanic
Eruption in Hawaii
Or the recent hurricanes,
Sandy and Katrina.
We are at the mercy of
Forces far beyond
What we could ever
Imagine. And so, again for the
Countless time in my
Life, I saw the
Shocking power
Of Mother Nature
Roll up before
My eyes, when a
Tremendous
Storm blew in
When I was spending
The night on Washington
State’s beautiful
Whidbey Island.
No place is exempt
From terror – not
Even heaven!!
Leo Carroll
June 1, 2018
First the wind I hear, and
Then starts the driving rain in sheets against the
Siding of this sturdy, island home, and
So out to sea I cast my eyes, and
There the primordial story of a November
Storm unfolds…and it is of a high
Tide being whipped into a lather
Against the flank of a black, gray dawn.
All this is soon displayed as an
Endless stream of white-capped waves
Beating against the bulwark of
What man has made, and
Naught is to be done to
Calm and hold it all back,
Except, that is, to pray and
Wait and see, because the hounds
This morning have been
Loosed, and the
Master-of-the-Morning
Has set in motion a
Mariner’s klaxon, and two
Neighboring American flags are
Pointed straight-out
By a monster wind
From out of the south, and
Their tattered threads hurtle towards
Wherever people go when left
With only faith or hope
As their last redoubt.
Mercy
Click for meditationRegarding "Mercy"
To me, the most important
Thing about being
At the beach is
That when I walk to
The water’s edge, I
Feel I am in the undoubted
Presence of Creation.
This is what I feel
In my heart,
And so, therefore,
I have the urge to touch
The waves and to be
Touched by them…
I always get down onto
One knee, usually
In shallow water,
And scoop my
Hands into the
Surf and then throw
It onto my face — over and
Over — as if I cannot
Get enough of the
Salt water. It is
An absolute blessing, and I
Have the sensation that
I am touching the
Hem of God.
There is nothing
In my life at that moment
That cannot be
Healed or helped.
I am at the original
Baptismal font, and I
Am at the Mouth and Mother
Of the River Jordan.
Leo Carroll
May 7, 2018
Down I reach
On one wet knee,
Hoping for the right wave
My cupped hands to
Greet. O, how I
Love this cold surf, this
Fresh compress to
My face, this
Blessed touch by
Something Greater,
My thirst to
Gratefully slake!
“Boom!” each
Wave about me crashes,
My hands held to
Their salty lips, as each
One of them
Approaches…and
On beach stones in foam
Kisses.
Gospel of John 1: 1-3
Click for meditationRegarding "Gospel of John 1: 1-3"
The concept of
Creation still lies beyond the grasp
Of all human understanding.
All scientific efforts to
Satisfactorily explain how
Creation happened still languish
Behind the door of a
Limited ability to peer
Into the moments before the
Roar of the “Big Bang.”
Every time something is
Discovered, or an inroad is
Made peeking through
The keyhole of what appears a
Physics mystery, something
Further then looms as needing to be
Explained or understood …
Mankind’s brain falters before
The throne of incomplete
Knowledge. All cultures, past
And present, have tried
To make sense of
Creation as seen by an
Examination of old oral traditions
And ancient texts, and
Modern efforts are now
Seen taking form in the
Starship of the world’s largest
Particle collider, the Hadron
Collider, on the Swiss/French border.
Yet, we still don’t truly
Know, on a cosmic scale,
Much of anything … That is
Why faith still perseveres
As a salve upon the
Overwhelmed neurons
Of our brains.
Leo Carroll
January 19, 2019
The spoken Word which
Created the universe, the Word
We bow in wonder before
But cannot spell, the
Word whose feet we washed
In perfume, the Word
Who with us in the Upper
Room dwelt, the Word we can
Neither say nor hear, the
Word in Gethsemane
Who while we slept knelt,
That Word I don’t understand,
But that Word reached down
And became my brother,
Through an uncommonly
Blessed woman in the straw of
The stable of Man.