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Storm rolling in on ocean

Storm at Dawn

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Regarding "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.

Leo Carroll
November 26, 2016
Mutiny Bay, Whidbey Island, Washington



Photo by Elaina Carroll

Primeval

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Regarding "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.

Leo Carroll
November 1, 2007
Westford, Massachusetts



Photo by Mika Matin (via Unsplash.com)
Clearing by forest

Pausing

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Regarding "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.

Leo Carroll
November 19, 1999
Morrill, Maine



Photo by Jack Hudgins