Seasons
Heaven’s Green
Click for meditationRegarding "Heaven’s Green"
What
Kind of green
Is this upon which I look?
It stops me in
My tracks, and over
It in marvel and
Awe I stoop! An
Unbelievable
Green it is, just fallen
From a tree, not
Wanting to wait for
Autumn, but
Content to let go
Under the yoke of
Dewdrops –
Almost too
Invisible to be
Seen…
Leo Carroll
June 21, 2018
…Perfectly placed,
As if lying in waiting as an
Offering of grace, a
Maple leaf fallen,
With droplets of dew in
Beads on its face.
O, maple leaf,
What could’ve made
You this morn
To alight upon this
Sweet grass?
Did you consider
Waiting until
Autumn, when
Your October colors
Would’ve been
At their max?
Or, was it you
Preferred to release
Your green now,
And thus be
Remembered
For an early summer
Peek at a leaf by
Spring crowned?
Present Moment
Click for meditationRegarding "Present Moment"
Beauty is
Everywhere, but we
Have to see it,
Simple beauty,
Dandelion beauty,
Visible but hidden beauty,
In plain sight beauty,
Beauty our eyes
Are blinded to because
They’re clouded
With the scales of
Worry, beauty which
Is freely given,
And beauty which
Creation appointed to
Accompany
Our pilgrim’s
Path, when all
Else seemed to flee
Before the twin furies of
Regret about the
Past and fear
Of what the future
Could be.
Leo Carroll
May 8, 2018
And so spoke
Jason in his quest for the
Golden Fleece, and
So shouted Solomon from the
Ramparts of all his
Kingdom’s glory, and even
Inquired Ra, the Egyptian god of the sun,
“Where has been kept this
Hidden beauty,
This boundless yellow,
This brightest smile,
This dandelion,
This annual spring
Hope of ours?”
In Retrospect, Ode to Walden Pond
Click for meditationRegarding "In Retrospect, Ode to Walden Pond"
The only way I can
Describe Walden Pond is to say that
It exists, but its existence
Is more like a dream, or a daydream, or better
Still – like something make believe,
Maybe like the magical movie,
“The Wizard of Oz,” where
Judy Garland dances
And sings her way through every
Fantastical landscape
And situation.
Walden Pond seems…
Well, perfect! That is the
Only way it can be
Described, a place for
All seasons, all depths and
Fathoms and temperatures of its
Peridot waters, all shapes
And hues of its leaves,
All hopes and possibilities
As they lead down rough-hewn
Stone steps to the water’s edge,
All laughs and wishes,
All lightheartedness, all hopes,
All, all…and it is found in
Concord, year round, every year, and
Even in darkest winter it is
A wonder, at cold sunset,
At anytime, because as
Dorothy says to Toto,
“I’ve a feeling we’re not in
Kansas any more…”
Leo Carroll
May 12, 2018
If I never swim again,
At least once in your sweet waters
I will have done…
I will have felt the joy
And rush of your precious
Peridot, and know
In your fathoms I was
Made welcome.
Even now in winter, with
Your surface iced-o’er
And cold become,
In my mind lives my first dive,
When I felt the summer
Warmth of the
Beauty I plumbed…
Being
Click for meditationRegarding "Being"
I am coming
To realize that in this
Wood I am seeing my reflection,
Everywhere, in the form
Of leaves and trees
And inaudible
Whisperings, animate
And inanimate, in God’s
Image, all things
And me, beauty
Surrounded by beauty,
Change surrounded by change,
Life and death
In tandem, and seen
E’en in the faces of
Brittle hues on mottled,
Genuflected, leafy
Knees…
Leo Carroll
August 7, 2019
So here I am,
Where immersed in this
Grove of almighty
Pines and beech I sit,
Peaceful, as long as lasts the
Glory of this instant…
In sync I am, and putting up
No resistance like
Autumn leaves – simply
A pilgrim on the path
To crinkled dust, and
Carried by the wind on
The carpet of
Creation’s love…
Snow-Cold Silence
Click for meditationRegarding "Snow-Cold Silence"
How
Crystal-perfect
Was that moment, as if time and the
Woods and all other
Things seemed to stand
Completely still,
Nothing moving, nothing
Stirring, utter quiet
Both within me
And outside of me,
And all while I inhaled
Snow-cold air,
An air telling me
Flakes were poised
To fall upon a
Landscape waiting,
Poised to be sipped like
Finest wine poured
From a golden
Goblet called late
Autumn in New
Hampshire.
Leo Carroll
July 30, 2019
Over me
Spreads an
Imperceptible
Yoke of
Silence,
Pushing shut
My eyes,
Despite all
My resistance
To being
Pious…
Nothing is
Moving now,
Not even an eyelash
Nor a leaf, not
Even sound, not
Even color,
Not even what
I believe…
Nothing is
Moving, as
Creation pauses
Before
Loosing the
First flake from
November’s
Heaven,
And between
Now and
Then, in
Awe asleep I
Am sent…