Tides
Ode to Shasta Daisies
Click for meditationRegarding "Ode to Shasta Daisies"
As I meander
Along the curves of my
Rock garden’s
Wall, I come
Up’n a flock of
Long-legged shasta
Daisies, which
Ebb and flow like
A cleansing tide with
Whitest foam.
How peaceful they are,
How remarkable
In ability to soothe
The fray, how
Almost ignored,
Because who would
Expect their
Thin stalks to be
Able to bind
What makes afraid!
Leo Carroll
October 23, 2018
I would
Love to sleep
Amongst
You,
My duty
Finally
Come to
Rest,
My covers
Pulled
Up around
Me, and
Your
Wondrous
White
The sentry
I could
Depend.
Looking towards Sand Beach and Beyond…
Click for meditationRegarding "Looking towards Sand Beach and Beyond…"
I frequently
Speak about my
Pilgrim’s path, the
Trail I’m on as
My youth learns
It won’t last.
The longer I live,
The closer I am to dying,
And the more I hope
My path has
Somehow
More time…
And so I muse if
I might have
Multiple, serial
Forms of existence?
I must, such is
The staggering
Amount of
My shaping and
Smoothing yet
To be done, and all
I need is to
Look at Acadia’s
Sand Beach — and
See the pinprick-sized
Remnants of
Seashells, and
Realize Creation’s
Tides will wash me
Until Kingdom
Come…!
Leo Carroll
November 16, 2018
I see the deep, and if
I can e’er reach it beyond the rocks,
Then maybe into its blue
Arms I can dive and sleep…
Returned home after
Millennia of seemingly
Endless searching,
My pilgrim’s path finished,
My tired feet no longer thirsty…so
Tantalizingly close but still
So far away, because
The remaining steps of my
Path are destined for
A finely sculpted copse
My walk must enter
Along the trail…and then
Onward to a beach, itself
Formed of infinite, miniscule
Pieces of seashells, each
Shell’s journey incalculably
Longer than mine,
Literally grounded into
Smithereens, and the length it
Took not e’en known
By Time…
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!
My Feet
Click for meditationRegarding "My Feet"
There is a small tidal pond,
Naturally preserved, perfect in its
Primordial soul, perfect
In its willingness to serve. And so I found myself
There, immersed in what it
Had to offer, my toes
Intermingled with periwinkles,
And scrubbed by ‘knotted wrack,’
Itself undulating ’round
Smoothed stones,
And then over.
Leo Carroll
September 17, 2018
My feet, each being washed
Clean by the patient primordial sea in healing,
Each little wave lapping as if a
Water pitcher poured down, each smoothed
Stone one of the steps I was
Shown when my life I was
Searching to be found, each
Gentle ocean sponge to exfoliate
My flesh in consonance with
The universe’s care…yes, my feet, and
By these cold Maine gifts they
Are bathed, as if this tidal
Pond’s purpose was to soothe all
They had to bear…
Sailboat
Click for meditationRegarding "Sailboat"
To be free,
To be carried by the wind
Uncaringly, to
Cast your lot with
Fate and to let the tides
Caress you with
No fear, because you
Have decided to
Be free, the air in your
Hair and the
Air imbibed like
Quenching, wheat beer…
Ah, yes, free,
Answering to no one
But Mariah the Wind, and she
Turns her gaze
Towards you and asks,
“Why not come
Here, where the sails
Are topped for your life
To live?”
Leo Carroll
July 9, 2018
There rides my
Daydream, sailing towards and
Away from me,
Gracefully,
Effortlessly,
And then gone it is
Beyond a jutting shoreline,
Where it disappears
For a moment behind
A teasing veil…but then back,
I see it, back, tacking
Towards a little
Summer isle, appearing
To slow offshore
A small, sandy beach,
Contemplating,
Pausing, deciding whether
To dip its masts
Towards me — and from
Afar show a
Promising smile!