Terror
Who Dares Say This?
Click for meditationRegarding "Who Dares Say This?"
When I was watching
A video clip of the wild sea state
Occurring at Plum Island
On January 29th, I
Was reminded of the
Old Christian hymn,
“How Great Thou Art.”
The basis for this famous
Work was a nine
Stanza poem written by
Swedish minister,
Carl Boberg, in 1885.
He had been on the Swedish
Seacoast on a beautiful
Day, when he was
Overtaken by a tremendous
Thunderstorm of
Unspeakable power.
And then, just as suddenly,
The sky changed again,
And a beautiful blue
Appeared and birds began
To sing! He dropped
To his knees and began
To utter words which
Would be the basis for his
Poem and afterwards
His song. Next to “Amazing
Grace”, it is considered
The most beloved
Of all Christian hymns.
Flash forward to several
Weeks ago, when on
January 29th, a ‘bomb cyclone’
Snowstorm ravaged
New England and parts of the
Massachusetts coastline
With up to 30 inches
Of snow. In the midst of the
Frenzy that day, a very
Brave woman had, in a sense,
Her own Carl Boberg
Moment, and captured a
Forty two second video clip of
What it was like that
Instant to stand just a few
Bare feet from a wild,
Frigid Plum Island surf.
Thanks to the courage
Of that woman, we, too, can
Understand how someone
In 1885 would say,
“How Great Thou Art!”
Leo Carroll
February 13, 2022
Who says the
Lord God is not great,
That the Lord is not
All-powerful and
Not Sovereign over all
He hath made?
Who dares say this!?
Who dares say
God is not Master
Of the blasting and
Blistering sand
Grains and the wind
Which whips and
Howls, that God is not
Superior to the
Creatures we are,
Caught amidst
This maelstrom and
Travail as waves
Wail as if hath come
Our final hour!?
Eucharistic Adoration
Click for meditationRegarding "Eucharistic Adoration"
There is the well known
Account described in the Gospels
Where Jesus is on His knees
In the Garden of Gethsemane,
Praying that if it’s in His Father’s
Will, to have the cup of His
Crucifixion removed from His lips.
According to the Gospels,
Jesus in His anguish sweat blood,
Such was the unfathomable
Distress He was feeling.
He asked His disciples who
Were with Him to stay awake
And to pray with Him. Try as
They might, however, none
Of his disciples were able to do
This, such was the over-
Whelming crush of emotion
Weighing upon them. And then
I think of all the times
That I, too, have not been
Able to keep Jesus company…
And I then slide under the
Waves of my life, wishing I had
Not judged so harsh…
Leo Carroll
December 23, 2021
In the Presence of You
My eyes want to close,
O Lord, but You already know that,
Having sadly seen my face and
Noticed nothing over the past
Two thousand years has
Really ever changed – it is still
Too difficult for me to kneel
And to accompany You in
This alter-Gethsemane of
A simple church’s pew.
So patient with me You are!
But after all these millennia, I still
Cannot keep my eyes open,
Such is the effect of Your yoke’s
Light weight upon my eyelids
Up-and-down motion.
Leo Carroll
December 14, 2021
St. Anne’s Church
Littleton, Massachusetts
Musing
Lord, are You really
Enclosed within that luna
Which safe-keeps and
Cradles the host
Inside its glass, does
Your unimaginable Lordship
Reign meekly within
The monstrance
As if the consecrated
Bread was a mustard seed
Onto good soil about
To be cast? O please help me
To remain prayerfully
In front of You,
Sweet Lord! I am so
Used to restlessly
Shifting and moving like
The wild man who
Ran out from the burial
Caves, his chains
Broken and dangling,
Of You terrorized, afraid.
Genesis
…And so, despite being
Sternly warned, Lot’s wife was
Turned into a pillar of salt
When she inexplicably looked back
At the very instant of
Sodom and Gomorrah’s
Annihilating destruction.
She was vaporized instantaneously
By a blinding flash beyond
All description, which ravaged
The land making it unrecognizable…
I have wondered if this infamous
Biblical story with all its
Wild imagery could somehow be
Applied to understanding
The importance of
Living in the present
Moment and not looking
Back at what we once
Had or knew in the past…
Because there is no surer way
For a heart to be hardened
And for lifeblood to be
Clotted and curdled
Than to excessively obsess
A real or perceived loss
Or unfortunate turn
Of events and to endure the
Ensuing fallout from the
Unbearable mourning
Or anger. We are intended to
Keep moving along our
Life’s path, just as Lot’s wife
Was admonished to do,
But she turned around — and
Thus she who was born of flesh of
The womb was transformed
Into immutable stone.
We likewise become lifeless
When we fixate upon
Something from our past,
Because, like it or not,
Our path is meant to be
Traveled, and stopping and
Looking back is an anathema
To Creation’s way of
Rounding, smoothing, and
Teaching us. In short, we cannot
Learn if we are frozen in
Time, and our eyes have become
Clothed in scales as if we
Stand motionless like a
Monument in Death Valley…
September Sunrise
Cadillac Mountain, Acadia National Park
Click for meditationRegarding "September Sunrise"
In truth, it is impossible to describe the
Mystery and wondrous effect of the sunrise
Which unveils Itself daily before onlookers
On the summit of Cadillac Mountain in
Acadia National Park. In fact, during certain months
Of the year, it is this location where the
Sun first appears on the horizon in the entire
United States, and which is so amazingly
Spellbinding in the glimpse and insight it provides
Into the overwhelming magnitude and
Majesty of the universe, and of the meaning of
The Word of Creation as found in the
Book of Genesis. When the photographer for
This poem speaks of the early moments
When the sunrise began to unfold, her eyes
Immediately spark alive with shining light, as if
She herself had captured a bit of the sun,
And within her it now eternally resides…and so,
It is her eyes which can speak best, because just like
With Saint Paul, her uttered words pale compared to the
Glow of the yellow and flame-orange red…
Leo Carroll
October 7, 2018
As if it was the first sunrise
E’er to be seen, rose up before the old
Mountain a burgeoning glow of
Ancient hues in a spreading
Smile unveiled, a widening expanse
Of yellow and flame-orange red…
All resulting in a deep longing, and beheld
By wondrous faces with bated breath.
What eternal yearning, what
Instinct from the collective subconscious of
Primeval yore, what was being
Unleashed with such hypnotic power
O’er those who watched in awe…?
For it was as if they stood millennia ago —
At a cave mouth looking up — and the
Rising sun told them that ahead was at least
One more day, in a land wild and raw,
With terror and beauty tangled in
A tandem yet to be explained.
Storm at Dawn
Click for meditationRegarding "Storm at Dawn"
It does not take
Much to remind us we are
Separated from the cave
Mouth by only the
Slimmest and
Barest of margins…
All it requires is a
Frightening or terrorizing
Storm or natural
Disaster to reinforce
How tenuous
Everything is in this
Technologically-smug
Society. Witness
The severe 2018 volcanic
Eruption in Hawaii
Or the recent hurricanes,
Sandy and Katrina.
We are at the mercy of
Forces far beyond
What we could ever
Imagine. And so, again for the
Countless time in my
Life, I saw the
Shocking power
Of Mother Nature
Roll up before
My eyes, when a
Tremendous
Storm blew in
When I was spending
The night on Washington
State’s beautiful
Whidbey Island.
No place is exempt
From terror – not
Even heaven!!
Leo Carroll
June 1, 2018
First the wind I hear, and
Then starts the driving rain in sheets against the
Siding of this sturdy, island home, and
So out to sea I cast my eyes, and
There the primordial story of a November
Storm unfolds…and it is of a high
Tide being whipped into a lather
Against the flank of a black, gray dawn.
All this is soon displayed as an
Endless stream of white-capped waves
Beating against the bulwark of
What man has made, and
Naught is to be done to
Calm and hold it all back,
Except, that is, to pray and
Wait and see, because the hounds
This morning have been
Loosed, and the
Master-of-the-Morning
Has set in motion a
Mariner’s klaxon, and two
Neighboring American flags are
Pointed straight-out
By a monster wind
From out of the south, and
Their tattered threads hurtle towards
Wherever people go when left
With only faith or hope
As their last redoubt.