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Depths

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Regarding "Depths"

Depths,
Cleansing depths,
Healing depths,
And depths
Available
To all of us
If we can just
Hold long enough
Our breaths…
How deep
Can
We go,
How much do
We want to
Find for what we
Search,
How long,
How deep, no
Matter how
Much it helps when
It hurts…?

Leo Carroll
November 24, 2018

 

Down, down deep,
Into the depths I
Plunge, sounding for the
Bottom in fathoms
Dive to plumb.

Down, down deep,
The water courses
O’er me, in a protective
Rush of foam
Across my eternity.

Down, down deep,
My body points
In arrow flight, single
In its purpose, its
Object out of sight…

Leo Carroll
September 12, 2002
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Kevin Shattuck
Photo of Field in Ireland

Ode to Dromod’s Field

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Regarding "Ode to Dromod’s Field"

In September 2000, two of
My daughters went to Ireland, and
While there visited a cemetery
In County Kerry where some of the
Forebears of my father’s family were buried.
My daughters asked me if I wanted
To accompany them. I told them,
“No,” that I was busy with other
Things I was doing. They persisted in
Asking me. I persisted in
Saying, “no.” And so they went
Alone, to traverse the land
Where four generations before
Some of my ancestors had
Left Ireland. I should have gone.
I knew it even before they
Returned. I could tell in their
Voices over the international
Telephone lines that they
Had touched something
Like a heartbeat or the flesh
Of a palm no longer heard or felt.
I saw the photos when they returned,
And my eyes were overwhelmed
By the power of the images.
And so I came to write this poem of
A burial ground in Dromod, County Kerry,
Which saw the faces of my
Daughters, and in seeing their
Features, saw mine, too…as well as
The likenesses of their sons
And daughters who had left
Long generations before.

Leo Carroll
September 3, 2018

 

Upon your stones we move about, in
Prayerful search ‘midst this wheat throughout.
We never knew ye, but feel sure, you
Watch us tread this earthen floor.
From thy loins sprang Dromod seed, a
Comely fruit and sweet-isle mead.
These sons and daughters cupped your
Hand, kissed it gently, then sailed your land.
Lo years later, with them long gone,
You see us now as we part these thorns.
We’ve come to say we love you, too, and
Brush these stones etched in dew.
For as we spread these weeds grown
Wild, you see our faces and ken our smiles.
On our faces, likened clear, are the long
Ago images of your children dear.
Know ye then, people of yore, we’ve
Come to sit your lap once more.
Against your breast we commune and sleep, safe
In the warmth your field doth keep.

Leo Carroll
September 3, 2000
Old Cemetery in Slahig, Dromod Parish Area
County Kerry, Ireland



Photo by Pamela Lee
Photo of a field in late Autumn

Choosing Heaven

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Regarding "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…

Leo Carroll
November 18, 1999
Morrill, Maine



Photo by Jack Hudgins
Fall leaves

Autumnal Remembrance

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Regarding "Autumnal Remembrance"

Autumn is a metaphor for
Endings and things
About to change. It is a time of
Great color, great beauty,
But change is definitely in the
Air, and everyone and
Everything knows it.
All Creation knows it, and it
Plays out in the life of
Every living thing. It is a
Season of soul-searching and
Introspection, melancholy
And feelings of loss – missed
Opportunities and
What-ifs, and on and on…
All this, though, silhouetted and
Accompanied by the
Wondrous majesty of
Nature as it peaks — and
Literally right before it falls…
In my mind, all other
Seasons pale in the
Shadow of autumn, and
It is in autumn when we get
The opportunity to
Re-evaluate our pilgrim’s
Path – and to somehow
Keep hope alive, because the
People upon whose shoulders we
Have stood are still with
Us in spirit, speaking to us
Through the things that they
Liked the most about autumn – geese
Passing overhead, yellow
Maple leaves dancing
In the breeze, the stunning
Purity of first frost on the
Petals of snapdragons…

Leo Carroll
May 20, 2018

 

When you hear the geese move overhead,
When you feel the wind rustle in the trees,
When you see the leaves begin to fall,
Please think of me, and I will be there.

When you smell the cool in autumn’s air,
When the sun bathes you in fading warmth,
When the flowers crowd for one last night,
Please think of me, and I will be there.

When dusk is early and morning late,
When frost touches dawn before it awakes,
When the grass curls for a season’s sleep,
Please think of me, and I will be there.

When fall becomes your season’s mate,
When you’ve aged and begin to contemplate,
When you wonder about all you’ve been…
Please think of me, and I will be there.

Leo Carroll
October 15, 1999
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Jim Sonia