Maine
Choosing Heaven
Click for meditationRegarding "Choosing Heaven"
In the woods of
Maine, no matter which
Way I walked, even
If I went in the
Wrong direction and
Somehow got
“Turned around” and
Was temporarily
Lost, I always
Was on the path to
Heaven, because
Any spot in
Those pristine
Woods was as if
Peering into the looking
Glass at all the
Ramparts of
The Almighty’s
Palace on the
Glistening heights of
Caesarea…
Thus tries to
Speak this poem…
To the left —
If I wandered
Into a
Prototypical
Maine field — it
Was as if I
Had come before
The font of
All wisdom
And understanding.
If I walked down
The path to
The right — my
Spirit was blessed
With all the
Hues of autumn, as if
Sprinkled from
Creation’s fingers.
Leo Carroll
June 3, 2018
In which
Direction should I
Choose to go,
As I muse
The best path
In my pilgrim’s walk
To follow…?
To the left
Leads me into
A glorious meadow
Of milkweed
And its pod,
While to
The right
Meanders a
Rough-hewn
Road,
Where a
Canopy of
Golden
Shade and
Shadow awaits to
Clothe me
In the hues I
Long…
The Field
Click for meditationRegarding "The Field"
I was once given a gift,
A gift shown to me by a friend,
A gift beyond words to ever adequately
Describe, and a gift
Surpassing all measure and
Human treasure.
It was a place in the
Middle of the Maine woods,
Secluded, a field, a golden field,
Surrounded by old stone
Walls, inhabited by
Everything good that
Could ever be said
About the purity and
Hardscrabble spirit of Maine,
And it was in that field I learned
I could rest in solitude
Amongst the milkweed pod, and
Could recline in ease and
Peace with my name.
Leo Carroll
April 24, 2018
I stepped into a Maine-filled field,
Breathed its life and felt its feel,
When then I spied the milkweed pod, and
Mused they lined the path to God…
So amongst the pod I reclined myself, and
Spread my cares before that land devout. When
Then replied from a treetop far, crow’s
Answering call in knowing “caw.”