Peace
Winter Blessings
Click for meditationRegarding "Winter Blessings"
All it took was the
Meditative rhythm of the
Sound of light rain falling on
A small garden bed
Covered in old oak and
Maple leaves, to
Soothe the seas of
My mood, and then
Adding to this calming
Effect was the soft sound of the
Same rain hitting the
Mossy and mottled
Rocks of an adjacent,
Worn stone wall …
Reminding me once
Again that the gifts from
Creation actually
Occur all year-round,
Not just in spring or
Summer or fall,
But in winter when
First impulse might be
To don sackcloth
And ashes, but instead
The January drizzle
Wags its finger and says,
“No, not at all …!”
Leo Carroll
January 11, 2019
I hear
The pitter-patter of light
Rain on leaves, maple and oak and
What else lies hibernating between, and
I hear an even softer sound
As it lands on a nearby
Stone wall’s mottled moss,
Green and grey in blotches, an old
Coat from the colonial era,
But to me now like new
Wineskin cloth . . . and
Thus my ears listen intently,
Interpreting, soothed by
This revelation and nurture
Alive in my January garden,
When winter would
Otherwise harness me
To my mood, and it wouldn’t
Be until the first crocus’s
Song that I’d dare consider what
Spring’s freedom could
Loose.
Isaiah 55: 8
Matthew 11: 28-30
Click for meditationRegarding "Isaiah 55: 8
Matthew 11: 28-30"
So many times with
Life I have arm wrestled, when it
Would have made far better
Sense to relent, to relax, and to
Go with the inevitable flow of
Circumstances around me …
How many things in life
Are truly important?
How many things really
Demand a claim of victory?
The older I have gotten,
The fewer and fewer things I
Have offered in answer …
Everything cannot
Be important, and as it
Turns out, not much actually is.
What is important, though,
Is to look around and be
Aware of the bountiful
Blessings available to each of us.
Every day and in every way,
Nature speaks. Beauty is
The de facto, eternal
Word of God, just
Like a lamb grazing,
Accepting what is in front
Of its face, freely-begotten,
Wonderful to the taste, in a
Pasture, in a green, well-watered,
Sheltered space.
Leo Carroll
January 7, 2019
“It is better to be
A lamb than a lion,”
Enters like a
Sweet zephyr into
My whirling
Subconscious,
And then added
For emphasis,
“My yoke rests
Easier on fleece
Than the wild mane of
Your flesh …”
Wagon Wheel
Click for meditationRegarding "Wagon Wheel"
A wagon wheel is faithful,
Always ready to roll…the only time
It stops working is when
It breaks and needs
Fixing, or when it
Is too old to be repaired.
Wagon wheels are
Held in mystical esteem.
Anytime someone drives in a rural
Area, even in an area which
Is no longer rural, it is
Possible to come upon a
Wagon wheel leaning against
A stone wall, a tree,
A barn, or something else.
They are rarely discarded.
They are respected.
Sometimes they are revered.
They are reminders of a
Simpler time of life – hard working
And dutiful. The lupines
In the photograph know what
The old days were like.
They grew then, just
As they also grow now.
Their collective memory
Knows the importance
And meaning of a wagon
Wheel. That is why they stand
In homage around the grey, weathered
Rim and spokes, and listen
To the stories…stories of what the
Wheels and their wagons once did, before
They became tired and broken and
Weathered and…
Leo Carroll
December 13, 2018
At last it has come to rest,
An old wagon wheel weathered, with its
Wizened spokes pointed outward
As if still poised in
Yesteryear’s duty-radius.
No more turns now, no
More thoughts of service, just a green field
Of lupines, to bind its
Wooden wounds in June’s
Glorious fervor.
And so it sits, alone
And at ease until gloaming’s end, alone
Except for lupines, and the
Lavender praise and reverence
Of their hymns.
From the Field
Click for meditationRegarding "From the Field"
There is a field in the
Middle of the Maine woods,
Which functions for me
As if a prayer carpet before
A glistening farmhouse
Which rises above
It in the distance.
Holier than any place
Of worship, this
Field, in turn, bows
Before the farmhouse
To which it points.
Every time I have
Stood in that field,
The farmhouse has
Appeared as if it was
Caesarea in the Gospels,
A veritable shining city
Upon a hill, and a
Beacon to anyone
In search of coming into
The presence of their
Higher Power. And as
If trying to mark my path
To the Kingdom of God, I always
Take my compass out
And take a reading of the
Farmhouse’s direction from me.
The bearing never changes –
It is north northwest,
As dependable as
The eternal love of God.
Leo Carroll
December 5, 2018
I come in awe
Before this mountain,
Embraced by tall
Autumn grasses as I
Peer up at what
On a sun-facing slope
Rests – a far-away,
Familiar white
Farmhouse, ablaze
In sunlight like it
Was disseminating
God’s Word to alight
Upon my head…
And then an inner
Voice prompts me
To re-check the
Compass heading of
This object holding my
Spellbound gaze,
And as always the
Precise needle of
Creation points the same,
“Son, the bearing and
Path for you to
My farmhouse lies
As the croaking raven
Flies — north by
Northwest.”
Pink and White
Click for meditationRegarding "Pink and White"
I used to believe
A pilgrim’s path was
Composed of life events and
Challenges to “round”
The “rough edges” off of
A person, much like
A sand grain lying on the
Beach and being bathed by
Tidal flows, and as part
Of this marathon trek, a
Person could learn
And be taught…
The older I get, though, I
Have come to believe
A pilgrim’s path is meant
To be far more…that a
Pilgrim’s path is also comprised
Of steppingstones of comfort
And Beauty, and it is these
Latter two which can help
A person to persevere
And live a more peaceful life.
In short, a pilgrim’s journey
Is not just about being
Re-shaped and smoothed
By the events of life,
But by being helped and
Guided along the way by
The simple gifts of Creation —
Such as pink and white shasta daisies
On an autumn morning
Along a stone wall…
Leo Carroll
October 26, 2018
Could I
Meander along a
Prettier pilgrim’s path
Than this?
Could my eyes
Open
Any wider,
Lest any pink and
White beauty
Along this stone wall
I miss?