Tides
The Saints
Click for meditationRegarding "The Saints"
Each day, without
Recourse to being able to
Avoid even one tide,
Each and every
Sand grain on the
Beach is washed and
Washed again,
With no expectation
Of reprieve, and
Certainly no reprieve
Received, each
Day, every day,
Bathed by
Incoming and
Outgoing tides,
Like a pilgrim
On a path not
Knowing when
Comes the journey’s
End, just that
Its duty is to feel
The water’s
Surge and in its
Ears to hear
The roar, and that
Someday its
Task will be
Mercilessly done,
When on that
Judgment Day the
Heralds sing.
Leo Carroll
April 30, 2018
When of I think the
Waves which daily
Pound this beaten shore, all the
More I bow before the
Grains of sand,
Which upon Creation’s
Beach put their
Humble backs to each
Tide’s oars.
Peace
Click for meditationRegarding "Peace"
Nowhere can be better
Seen the majesty of all Creation than
At the seashore of this
Glorious earth. Just even a few
Moments alone on the beach in the
Company of all the nameless grains of sand
And seashells and stones
Cannot help but
Give the startling impression
Of the overwhelming
Power and magnitude of
Creation…and yet, at every high tide,
The waves come in and caress
Each grain of sand and shell as if
Their only task that day
Was to wash each one and
To make them lamb-like clean,
As if this was the first time
And not the infinite occasion
That they were being bathed,
And no task was more
Important that day than buffing holy
Their sheen with the tide…
Leo Carroll
April 16, 2018
Washed all clean,
Like in an Elysian Fields
Dream, was
Placed a beach,
Where onto its
Sands in rolling
Fealty came
Breakers and foam
In trembling and
Kneeling…