Healing
Beloved
Click for meditationRegarding "Beloved"
There is a place upon a
Beach, a low-slung cottage
Attached to tufts of sea grass and
Sand on a Whidbey Island bay.
It is brown and small and
Unassuming, a perfect place,
Especially if someone was looking
To lay their head upon a
Pillow safe. It looked
To me like a way station,
Where a pilgrim could
Pause before proceeding…
Proceeding onward to heaven,
Carried up a golden
Staircase by gilded rays
Shining through
Clouds overhead.
This way station would
Serve as a rest stop for
One final smoothing
Of the edges of the soul,
Where one could sleep, pray,
And gather the energy
For one final push to
Return – – to where we all
Started and to where we are
All invited back to go.
Leo Carroll
November 7, 2019
Jewel
…And to think I was
Shown all this – – a breathless
View of heaven, of a
Wondrous portal into peace’s bliss – –
And lying below a little
Cottage, snuggled close
To earth like a
Supplicant, and
Me metaphorically
Cloistered its walls inside, from
Where prayers could be
Whispered and
Straight to God’s ears
Uninhibited fly…
Cottage
What is it about this
Little place, something familiar and
Secure I think…? Is it perhaps
I’ve been here once before, and
Under the tutelage of the
Healing Light was bathed
And brought forth?
Yes, I feel like I do
Know this place, simple as
It is – – and pure – – a
Cottage I would like,
No pretense allowed,
Just a hermitage
To house the silent
Prayers of the lame,
Sick, and halt…and those
Lost but mercifully
Now found…
Cottage Re-Visited
Could it be this little
Cottage is a microcosm of me,
A hermitage huddled at shores edge,
Hesitant to lift e’en its eyes,
Lest they be seen,
Hunkered down its head,
Its rooftop fast and secured,
But bathed, nevertheless, bathed,
Because Creation welcomes
Each pilgrim at its door?
One
Click for meditationRegarding "One"
I know of someone who
Always says, “Life is full of second
Chances!” What an upbeat,
Nice thing to hear in a
World full of crises, cries,
And stresses! And so
Recently I was on a
Visit to the state of
Washington, and while
There had the good
Fortune to visit a place
For rescued animals called,
“Second Chance Ranch.”
This is a ranch where
A menagerie of animals,
Mostly farm animals, is given
A home to live out their
Lives in well-cared-for
Circumstances.
It is a very uplifting
Place, staffed by gentle,
Kind-hearted people.
I toured all the animal
Enclosures there, and felt
Blessed in the experience.
One of the enclosures
I visited was for pigs.
It was there that I
Particularly got a good
Feeling, as if I was also being
Gifted a “second chance.”
A little pig rubbed
Up against my leg, and
I realized that all
Humanity was not
Exempt from the inside of
The ranch’s fences…
Leo Carroll
November 16, 2019
Found, at a
Ranch for animals lost,
A friend against
My knee to lean,
A creature accepting,
With me willing
To be seen…
Awakening
Click for meditationRegarding "Awakening"
My life has been
Anointed with far, far more
Gifts than it has with any trials and
Challenges which are otherwise
Names for the unremitting human condition.
Millions of little things, like
A songbird, an autumn leaf, a
Stranger’s smile, an unexpected
Encounter, a perfect
Snowflake, a dandelion, the
Love of a grandchild…
All these things and endless
More are constantly
Given freely when we may be
Thinking of ourselves as otherwise
Alone. I believe there is a
Power Greater Than We Are
Which knows of our
Existence. Each of us calls
This Power by a different name,
And even some who do
Not believe in a Higher Power
Acknowledge its possibility by virtue
Of disclaiming its very existence.
We are blessed so much in
Our day-to-day lives with Beauty…
Beauty which itself is a
Manifestation and face of
Our Higher Power.
For me, I hope my life’s
Path is a long one, in whatever
Form and realm my physical and
Spiritual travels may take…
I feel I am still in the early
Stages of having my rough edges
Smoothed, and every time I
Am bowed I am elevated by an
Unexpected gift which
Grabs me under the arm…
Like the Rhode Island lotus
Flower this poem describes, in
Its own right wondrous in its
Appearance, but, nevertheless, not
Limited by its physical beauty,
Because it, too, is always
Becoming through the work of
Creation mysteriously even
More beautiful, like all of us
Are, as the inside of us unfurls,
And our Higher Power finally
Says, “Behold My Child.”
Leo Carroll
December 28, 2019
As if at long last
Revealing its inner self,
All caution set aside,
What had been enough
Finally deemed to be enough,
What had heretofore
Been cloaked, but
Caught now in photo
As it floated upon
A Rhode Island pond,
A lotus flower in the
Faintest pinks and
Whites and greens and
Yellows, all blending
In the hues of a
Proffered heart
Given freely, and its
Beat the divine
Rhythm of the
Blood of Beauty,
The pulse soft and
Subdued, the petals
A cushion for
God’s footstool,
Whereupon the
Haversacks could be
Placed of weary,
Arriving souls.
Leo Carroll
August 3, 2019
Westford, Massachusetts
Prayer
Click for meditationRegarding "Prayer"
So many gifts have
Been given me, but so many
Of these I have let slip
Past me, through my
Fingers, whether
Unnoticed, overlooked,
Or taken for granted.
I am painfully aware of
My stumbles along my pilgrim’s
Path, but seldom have I
Seen the treasures
Offered to me as petals
To re-assure my feet.
Lupines, sweet lupines, are
In that category of
Innocent palliatives,
And I thank the
Photographer who
Took the picture which
Reminds that heaven
Is lined with unimaginable,
Beautiful simplicity,
And on this blessed planet
Its here starts.
Leo Carroll
July 11, 2019
Lead me to where the
Lupines live, and gladly amongst
Them I’ll lie, with purple
Pall bearers in phalanx
Around me, and their pointed
Petals as gentle shields,
Poised against all which would
Unsettle my mind…
Vermont Morning
Click for meditationRegarding "Vermont Morning"
And so when a woman
Recently showed me a photograph
Of her palms cradling a
Little bat in Vermont,
I was taken aback. She was
Supporting the creature
As if on the softest
Throne of white mittens.
I knew this was a special
Woman. She had found the bat
Asleep on a wall in her
Vermont home one morning, and
Had taken pity on it.
If she had been a member
Of the Jainism religious
Sect in India, which
Practices non violence
Against all living beings, she
Could not have been more loving.
She handled the bat as if
She was presenting the
The long lost treasure
Of the Knights Templar.
The photo of the bat
In her palms was taken
About 10-15 years ago,
And yet she still carried it
With her as if it was
A sacred, holy relic, and
When she showed it to me,
I was able to peer into
The simplicity and
Compassion of her soul.
Leo Carroll
February 16, 2019
Who else in knitted, mitten-white
Palms would e’er cradle a
Tiny, helpless bat in hopes to keep
The scared creature calm?
Very few people would … only
Someone who had herself been lost, and
Thus recognized the cry when
The morning sun wafted it across.