Sand Grains
Finally
Click for meditationRegarding "Finally"
Sometimes our path may
Seem so arduous, so unrelenting, so
Littered with choices and
Decisions and events, which
To look back up’n later
Can leave us worn and spent,
Almost turned to stone like
Lot’s wife, each step
Taken a test of perseverance
And might, each step with
No chance to repeat,
But just to move
Forward with a hopeful
Heartbeat…but what if we
Suddenly came up’n and
Arrived at the final few steps,
And could smell the
Blessed salt air of rebirth
And fragrance, and e’en hear
The gentle lap of waves
As if applied against our
Psyche and soul had come
A warm compress…such
Thoughts came to me when I
Saw two photographs
Recently taken at Sandy
Point on Plum Island.
I could not help but put
Myself in the shoes of the
Photographer, and thus
Unfolded before me the
Poem written in first person.
And so. a peridot-green canopy
Became a dream-like,
Long-sought tunnel
Of welcome, and on the
Oth’r side of it – the
Magnificence of a sun-bathed,
Pristine beach, with
Immaculate sands purring,
“Behold the absolute
Wonder of peace and
Release.”
Leo Carroll
September 28, 2020
Through the portal
I flow, its canopy my safe
Passage to shelter
Where e’en my whims
May follow…and then out the
Oth’r side I someday
Step, my journey
O’er, and my deepest
Wish waiting on the beach –
With my breathing
Breathless…
Plover
Click for meditationRegarding "Plover"
In both the Old and the
New Testaments, the physical
Manifestation of God’s
Presence or approval was
Frequently seen in the
Form of a white dove, an
Absolutely meek, gentle
Metaphor for the innocence
And perfection of
Creation. But when I
Recently saw the
Photograph of a newly-
Born plover standing on the
Shore of Plum Island,
I felt that it, too, could be
Construed as another example
Of God’s blessed Word
And Work. The photograph
Was taken by a ranger at the
Parker River National
Wildlife Refuge in July 2020,
And to me captures an
Image of Creation as out of
The primordial waters
It first stepped onto the
Universe’s burnished sands.
Leo Carroll
September 16, 2020
In lieu of a dove,
Steps out of a cloud the milky
Apparition of a plover,
Every bit as innocent, every
Bit an equal emissary
And herald of heavenly Love,
This time not circling
Above the bank of the
River Jordan, but meekly
Standing Plum Island’s
Shore, where its feet on the
Sands by fresh grains
Are supported.
Day’s Done
Click for meditationRegarding "Day’s Done"
As I’ve said so
Often, I love this little beach,
This Pemaquid beach,
This jewel on Maine’s
Mid coast looking out
Onto the Gulf of Maine!
I am always so reluctant
To leave it. It lies on only a
Bit of a wisp of sand,
Perhaps a quarter mile
In length, but one that has
Given my grandchildren
A lifetime of memories and
Smiles – of seagulls
Swooping, and hermit crabs
Clinging to shelter
Inside the tiniest of
Shells, and sandcastles
And fortresses being
Buttressed against
The onslaught of a
Rising tide. This beach,
This secluded haven,
Has also been a
Gift of solace to me,
As I’ve sat and watched
Little running legs merge
With my own — in a
Miracle of times past
And now — as I morph
Back and forth
From boy to man,
Feeling melancholic over
Those things I would
Do over again…
Leo Carroll
August 27, 2019
The day’s gift of
Precious life all done,
All sand castles
Built, all bare little
Feet now home to be
Bathed and by
Sleepy-time
Welcomed,
All done, with
Naught but the
Majesty of dusk
To be spread across
A quiet, low tide
At rest, and the last
Glimpse of light
To be felt like a
Goodnight’s kiss
Unexpected.
Ode to Seashells
Click for meditationRegarding "Ode to Seashells"
I love seashells.
They have so many shapes
And curves, so many
Edges smooth but yet still being
Smoothed, so innocent
But yet so strong,
Strong enough to have
Withstood roiling
Riptides, and yet gentle
Enough to lie as a feather
In the flesh of a palm,
So many stories to
Tell, so many waves which tried
To crush them asunder,
So many channel buoys
Ringing in their ears,
So many nameless beaches
Which showcased them in splendor,
So many hands which might
Have picked them up, and then
Passed them along — until
They came to where I am, and
My eyes in another’s
Palm gaze them upon.
Leo Carroll
August 13, 2018
How came you to
Be in her hand, so that to me
She would you give,
My flesh to become soon your
New plane of sand,
Your thin frailness
To become my strength…
Each to the other
To the other…all having
As their source the
Unremitting pounding
And smoothing you once
Withstood — upon an
Anointed shore I tremble to even
Set my pilgrim’s foot!
Footsteps
Click for meditationRegarding "Footsteps"
Anyone who
Has gone to the beach has
Probably had the experience
Of seeing footprints
In the sand, and wondering
Whom these might have
Belonged to? This
Frequently happens to
Me, especially when I
See footprints which retrace
The very same steps I
May have made. I wonder whom
They belonged to,
Perhaps a never-known
Soul mate, a person
Interested in the same
Things I am, a person on a
Similar pilgrim’s quest, a person
Seeking advice, guidance,
And the precious
Reassurance of Creation’s
Understanding and acceptance?
Footsteps, footsteps, that is
What they do to me –
Reminding me I am not
Alone on this plane
I walk, but instead that I
Retrace the common steps of
All humanity — in what
They seek, and of what they
Would talk…
Leo Carroll
July 23, 2018
Sitting
On the beach with
Someone else’s footsteps…wondering,
Musing what they were
Seeking…? Down to the
Water’s edge they solemnly went,
Down to find the
Answer to their
Prayer’s “amen.”
“Who were they,
Who, who?” I plead.
“Their flesh is now just indented
Sand where once they
Meekly walked,
Someone, someone who
Came this beach,
And someone about the
Tides with whom I could have
Talked…”