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Plumeria

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Regarding "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…!

Leo Carroll
April 29, 2021
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Aruna Vedula

Touching

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Regarding "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…

Leo Carroll
November 12, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Mary Lawrence

At the Well

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Regarding "At the Well"

At anytime and anywhere can
Be found relief, especially relief from
Our very selves, or relief from
What is going on around us — the
General cacophony of noise
In the guise of supposed sound —
And at the moment of this
Writing, the incredible
Crescendo of Covid-19 and
Politics, all mind numbing and
Soul deadening, unless
For a moment we can “see”
The natural world which
In its glory is still unfolding
Around us, and which is
Oblivious and immune to the
Fury which humanity
Wreaks and manifests…
In my rock garden, the
Faces of three flower petals –
Petunia, marigold, and
Daisy – descendants of
Descendants of descendants,
Living proof that not all
Life has to bow before the
Obscene, and definitely sufficient
To halt me in my tracks
As I browsed amongst my
Flower beds, already working to
Ready them for next spring,
Sadly like an automaton in my
Actions, and almost missing
Their three faces, reminding me
That fall was not yet
A memory…

Leo Carroll
October 12, 2020

 

Their faces circle
Faster and faster before me,
Autumn’s smile to
Slacken my thirst, whirring as
If inviting me to cross
Their threshold,
Their door wide-open,
My knees pressed to the leaves,
Their roots in the
Universe, my countenance
Inching closer, my
Mind in glorious blur…

Leo Carroll
October 9, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photos by Leo Carroll

New Wine

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Regarding "New Wine"

In the Gospels, Jesus
Teaches His followers about
A transformative and revolutionary
Way to renew their spiritual
Lives — to “love thy neighbor as thyself,”
And in so doing to gently satisfy
The letter of the Law.
Jesus taught a liberating
Theology of how to
Live a good life, and when
Questioned He told the
Famous parable about the
Good Samaritan, to clarify the
Meaning of the word, “neighbor,” i.e.,
Anyone we encounter along
The pathway of life.
Jesus said that to accept
This new teaching would be to
Take on His “yoke,” which He
Metaphorically visualized
As a burden “light.”
All we had to do was to
Relate to our neighbors as if
They were a manifestation
Of ourselves, and to treat them
The very same way we
Would like to be treated.
And thus, the Gospels outline
A soothing yoke to be put
Upon the fragile shoulders
Of humanity – just like
Newly fallen snow kissing the
Faces of pansies in an
Easter Week planter,
Beauty upon beauty, Love
Upon love, Divinity upon divinity,
And Creation upon creation.

Leo Carroll
June 29, 2020

 

New Wine

And so was heard,
“The yoke I give you is easy, and
The load I will put upon
You is light,” and across the
Waters and continents
Blew the Word, and at that
Moment the pansies
Knew by the new-fallen
Snow they would not be hurt…
And so they confidently looked up –
Easter petals lain up’n by an
Overnight, fresh snow –
Beauty gently placed
Up’n beauty, Love up’n love,
Divinity up’n divinity, and
Snowflakes up’n pansies from
Heav’n to earth bestowed.

New Wineskins

After the snow
Came the beauty, but I never
Expected it would be in
The form of words…But rather just
The honor of fulfilling duty,
But not the Balm of Gilead to
Assuage the hurt…

Leo Carroll
April 16, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Christine Carbone

Blue Poppy

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Regarding "Blue Poppy"

O’ how almighty science
And religion have grappled with the
Creation story of how we have
Come to be…but still the universe remains so
Unexplainable, so unimaginable, for
Our mere minds to grasp or comprehend
Or amongst ourselves agree…
I wonder about this, have daydreamed of it while lying in
A field of milkweed pod in Maine, or staring out
At some incoming tide on Plum Island
While blew a wild February spray,
And always my thoughts return to
What Is the real truth…? Some people say the
Universe is explained in the esoteric
Equations of mathematics, while others claim
The answer lies simply in the faith of
The world’s major religions, their ancient
Tenets long-entrenched in our minds by
Rote learning and fiat…But every
Once in a while I see something in
Nature which is as rational as any higher
Explanation…And thus spoke to me a
Pennsylvania blue poppy, caught in the act of
An explosion of Beauty, and whispering
With the authority of an ever-expanding bloom —
Hopefully mercifully on its way to my
Perception of somewhere…

Leo Carroll
May 9, 2020

 

In perfect Beauty,
As if giving birth from the womb in
The Creator’s amniotic choice of heavenly-blue,
An effusion of stardust is caught
Beginning its eternal journey
To the undefined reaches of
Somewhere, shot from the muzzle
Of a blue poppy and giving an
Alter-story to the Creation
Saga in Genesis, and also portraying the
Big Bang as more gentle than the
Sterile hardness of mathematics,
But more like the softness found in the
Underbelly of nature, as seen
In the silent authority of a flower
Speaking without fear.

Leo Carroll
March 12, 2020
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Mary Lawrence