Terror
Primeval
Click for meditationRegarding "Primeval"
In the great 1969 movie,
“Paint Your Wagon,”
Which is about the wild and
Crazy California gold rush
Of 1849, there is the
Fabulous song, “They Call
The Wind Mariah.” The
Lyrics are powerful, but yet
Hauntingly lonely, and they set
The framework and tempo
For the screenplay starring
Lee Marvin, Clint Eastwood,
And Jean Seberg. It was
A rough, tumultuous
Crossing in 1849 to reach
California, and once there
It was equally rough
And tumultuous to survive.
In the movie, the wind and the
Music were always in the
Background as if they were
Part of the cast. It struck
Me how primeval the wind
Was portrayed, and ever
Since, in any storm, I always
Will look up at the tops
Of trees and “call the
Wind Mariah,” as if
Addressing a supernatural
Force, one that comes
From and simultaneously
Represents Creation,
And wields the contradictory
Attributes of incredible
Power, terror, and the
Magnificent fist of Yahweh
Spreading love and hope and
Beauty upon the land …
Leo Carroll
January 15, 2019
Up my eyes strain to the tops of
Their spires, feeling from out of my primal past
What I cannot begin to plumb nor
Describe. Bend and moan they
Do, to the roar of wind howling
From out of the womb of the universe,
Right here, right now, this place,
This hope, this cave mouth, this new
Millennium, this old ice age, with the same
Shudder, the same words, the
Same stab of terror, and then
Tomorrow, the same sunrise chorus.
Pausing
Click for meditationRegarding "Pausing"
The woods can assume in
Posture both what comforts us and
What we fear, sometimes
All at the same time,
Sometimes in whipsawing
Twists and turns, sometimes in
Primeval verse and rhyme,
Sometimes in light and dark hues,
And sometimes in strange
Rustlings and shapes at night.
The woods can be like a
Chameleon, both
Invoking wonder and
Awe, and just as easily
Placing us at a cave mouth,
Where terror howls in the wind,
And where in the bend of the
Spruce — there is wild
Pitch and yaw…
Leo Carroll
June 6, 2018
Ah, yet still to cross…
A stone wall
I can crawl over,
But before doing so
In homage must
Pause, and
Then into the
Timbers, where dark
Are the spruce,
And then an even
Darker opening
Through the
Wood, where
The primeval forest
Greets me in
My mood.