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A rose on a notebook

The Notebook

Click for meditation

Regarding "The Notebook"

The most important thing I do
Every day is to write.
It is my life. It is my balm.
It is peaceful. It is
The one dependable
Action I take which is sure
Any raging waters
To calm. It is a gift to me.
Unmerited. It casts
A fence around me as
If I was reclined in the sweet
Sheepfold of Psalm 23.
It could even be
Viewed as my version
Of the Kingdom of Heaven,
That blessed seed
Bestowed within each of us,
Which has the
Potential to leaven into
A majestic, flowering tree.

Leo Carroll
October 2, 2018

 

Would this notebook
Be able to keep me afloat in
A raging sea, its paper,
Once wood, a life
Preserver’s giving me
Buoyancy, or,
Would last sight of
Me be with an arm
Raised high, notebook
Held up to the last,
And then down,
Down deep, gone,
Below the waves and
Into the vast…?

Leo Carroll
October 9, 2005
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Elaina Carroll
Flower in a jar

Daydream

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Regarding "Daydream"

One day I had a
Daydream about a small, glass
Milk bottle being placed
Against my front door,
And within it was the lone stalk
Of a flower, cocked
At a casual angle,
Simply done, but
Wonderful and welcome.
I’ve often wondered
Who placed that
Flower in a bottle?
It was such a generous
And kind thing to do,
Even if it was an invention
Of my mind, and the
Intent was only to lift my
Fictional mood…

Leo Carroll
August 12, 2018

 

A flower once
Stood at the outside of
My doorway, a
Lone stalk cocked
At an angle
In a simple glass
Bottle.

Who picked this
Flower and with care
Placed it there?
That remains known
To only the
Flower in the
Bottle…

Leo Carroll
January 10, 2005
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Elaina Carroll
Roaring stream in Maine

Cabin in the Woods

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Regarding "Cabin in the Woods"

I was up in the
Maine woods one year with
A group of some friends.
We were there for the
Week in an old,
Historical hunting cabin.
One afternoon,
Most everyone had
Found their spot
Out beneath some tree
Or along a stone
Wall, but for me — my
Day had ended,
And I was sitting in the
Cabin with just
One other friend,
A dear friend, an old
Friend, a long-time,
Dependable friend, the
Best kind of friend,
And we were talking
Over a glass of red wine.
As the afternoon reached its
Zenith and final light,
An absolutely peaceful,
Melancholic
Warmth settled in
Upon the cabin, and
I realized how
Sometime soon
We would ourselves
Become merged
With the woods in a
Final accounting
Of all things created…
I always cherish that
Singular moment, that light —
And, particularly, that
Friendship to
Share in it.

Leo Carroll
May 11, 2018

 

Gradually
Settles up’n the
Cabin an autumn spell of
End-of-afternoon, fading light,
Golden in its hue, and
Melancholic in the
Warmth and glow it casts,
And a reminder, also,
That we are caretakers of
This place in time, and
Like the ghosts that once sat these
Self-same chairs in the
Womb of these old walls,
We, too, will someday share
With the woods the
Coming final sunset and
Descending night.

Leo Carroll
November 19, 2004
Morrill, Maine



Photo by Jim Sonia
Yellow Maple tree canopy

Paean

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Regarding "Paean"

There is something
About the color yellow which
I find particularly
Warming, whether it
Appears on yellow maple
Leaves in autumn, or
On buttery-yellow marigolds
Or snapdragons or
Day lilies in summer. This
Poem is about when
I saw a magnificent,
Yellow-leafed maple tree,
Its leaves as if they
Adorned the throne of
Creation, and their hue as if
Personally applied
By watercolors from
The sun. And I saw this
Tree with its golden
Leaves while driving in
A suburban setting in
Needham, Massachusetts!
If I had seen such a
Tree and its leaves in
The woods of Maine or
New Hampshire, I
Would not have been as
Surprised, although I
Would have felt equally
Gifted, but I saw
These leaves when and
Where I did not expect — as
Always, Mother Nature
Caught me off guard,
And spoke to me when
My heart needed it,
And when the scales from my
Eyes were removed to
Reveal the magnitude of
The stunning message.

Leo Carroll
May 16, 2018

 

O, yellow leaves,
Gentle as balm,
Resting in God’s sunlight,
So soft to me,
So holy to me,
Only the wind knows
Your delight.

O, yellow leaves,
Simple and pure,
Faithful like a friend,
Beckoning all,
Proclaiming fall,
Even aft you drop, still
My godsend.

Leo Carroll
October 14, 1997
Needham, Massachusetts



Photo by Valentin Farkasch (via Unsplash.com)