Writing
Poem Word
Click for meditationRegarding "Poem Word"
When I was in the sixth grade,
We once had a guest teacher who came
Into the classroom to give a tutorial
On how to prepare for a
National examination which
My elementary school was going
To participate in. Her specialty
Was teaching about the English portion
Of the test, and she was
Giving us tips on how to work
Fast, but effectively, through the
Multiple choice and
Essay parts of the exam.
As she was speaking to us,
She paused and posed a question
To the class. It went something
Like this, “Who would be a
More conscientious,
Diligent student? Would it
Be the one who worked
Fast through the test, using all
The best test-taking techniques, and
Scored highest, or would it
Be the person who slowed down
During the test in order to
Choose the most appropriate word
To use in an essay paragraph,
But consequently losing
Valuable time and scoring lower?”
It was as if she had realized,
Mid-class, she was caught
Between two opposing poles or
Reasonings of thought —
Test fast and effectively, or
Take your time and do
Everything to the best
Of your ability. I bring this up,
Because when I was recently writing
A short poem, my thought train was flowing
Smoothly, and the whole poem was
Unfolding rapidly before me,
All in a matter of seconds…and then
I stopped and paused to
Weigh the right word, found it,
But then it disappeared…because it was
Only allowed to dawdle in my
Ether space for so long!
I was never able to recall and
Recapture the word, but the whole
Episode made me reminisce
Of that long ago teacher.
In my mind she still lives!
She was an accomplished,
Well-spoken, stately woman,
And she eventually told my
Sixth grade class that the true
Better student was the one searching
For the best word choice in
The examination essay!
Leo Carroll
March 7, 2021
A wisp of a word like a
Snowflake alight’ng a birch’s
Winter ground, a wisp
As quickly melted and
Forgott’n no matter the
Beauty of its sound nor the
Search it be found,
A wisp scurrying off with
Its consonants and
Vowels and meanings and
Contexts…because for a mere
Moment I’d paused,
And in that lull my neurons
Foundered and on
Sea rocks splintered…
Christmas
Click for meditationRegarding "Christmas"
Sometimes
My mind is unable to rest,
As if it was on its own
Independent mission, and
I was along for the
Ride as an involuntary,
E’en unwelcome
Guest…My mind can
Seem like it is freewheeling
With its neurons running
Wild on pathways
Forming new synapses…!
But somehow on
Christmas Eve, Something
Greater Than I laid
Down the gauntlet for
Me to hush, and my mind
Slowed down as if it
Pulled off a rural
Exit ramp, and I exhaled
A big breath as a child
Born 2000 years ago once
More let out its first
Cry, and the attending
Animals stretched out
In awe beneath the winter’s
Night’s sky…
Leo Carroll
December 29, 2020
No poem cometh…and
Momentarily I am
Mute in the
Silence…and e’en
My unharnessed thoughts
Are made to be
Bridled and to bow,
As my mind recuses
Itself before the
Awe of today’s humble
Majesty, and I realize
To do nothing is
All I am allowed.
Light in Dark
Click for meditationRegarding "Light in Dark"
I once read “art is creation.”
I cannot recall the name
Of the person who first said it,
But I believe the statement
To be true. And if art
Is creation, then in an
Infinitesimally small way,
Art contributes to the
Ongoing creation process of
The Big Bang…And so
In this context I continue
To write, actually more than
Usual in this time of Covid,
Because nothing can
Overcome the original
Creative power of the
Source of Creation!
And if art has been given
To me, even in the most
Insignificant of ways,
I can carry it in front of me
As an amulet of light –
To ward off the serpentine,
Evil forces of Covid’s
Dark and gloom.
Leo Carroll
December 20, 2020
Every night
I light my lights, and
Make my rounds
The dark despite,
And every
Night, room to
Room, into
The corners I peer
To illum…
Musings
Click for meditationRegarding "Musings"
There are some moments,
Some places, some situations, which
Can cast us into a freefall of
Emotions and thoughts
And musings. Such was the
Case when I was on
The beach in Mutiny Bay
On Whidbey Island.
My writings, while there,
Were both related and
Unrelated to the beauty of
The seashore, but they
Were a consistent collage
Of who I was, who I am,
And where the Muse has
Led my longing to be.
My thoughts placed me in
Awe before the Divine,
But also swung me back to
Consider the clay of
My humanity.
Leo Carroll
November 20, 2019
Knowing
If only I knew that I would
Never know, that I was merely
Destined to sit a beach
Like this, and to always
Wonder the meaning of a back
And forth, tidal flow…
If only I knew that I would
Never know, would I still persist and
Sit this beach, and in tremble
And awe be satisfied
With what had been gifted
So exquisitely…?
Seasons
…The eternal, intriguing
Nature of your smile, felt
Particularly in autumn, and
Fleeting, but always long
Enough to me beguile…it haunts
Me still, ne’er too far away —
What once I felt I knew,
But now the meaning I
Cannot explain…
Feelings
Puget Sound cold are my hands,
And cool across my brow brushes
A wind which also cloisters
And huddles shoulder-to-shoulder
The grains of sand, but
Blessedly and thankfully,
Faintly still warms the sun, and
About me circles the lingering
Season of someone.
Summer Daydreaming
Click for meditationRegarding "Summer Daydreaming"
I love that little Maine
Beach where I found myself sitting
Last week! Every year it
Becomes my safe harbor to
Daydream, wonder, and reflect. No more
Than a quarter mile in length,
It points seaward into
The Gulf of Maine.
Cold the water is! Brrrr!
Healing! Rejuvenating!
And it seems that
Every year as I sit upon
That beach, a fog bank will
Regularly roll in, and a sailboat
Will come into view tacking
In and out of my sight.
I have a relationship
With that sailboat which is
Complicated to define.
It has so many different
Meanings to me, and each one
Is synonymous with
Various themes at work
In my life. One of the
Most important of these
Themes is the loosing of
An almost continual, merciful,
Thought-stream of verse
And stanza, which will
Slip in and out of my
Consciousness like that
Which tacks in an out of a
Marvelous coastal
Maine fogbank, and
Where on my last day
Sitting — it will disappear
Until next year…
Leo Carroll
August 20, 2019
Found
Like a sailboat my voice
Wafts, tacking into the wind, and
Then blithely disappears into the fog’s womb,
Where it soon re-emerges again…
It seems as if my speech has
Been released by the muse on
Behalf of merciful God, and verse and
Stanza have been loosed by
Healing spittle upon a
Tongue’s tied knot.
Sailing
It is as if
On that sailboat I found
My voice, and in and out of the fog tacked
Verse and stanza which
Had waited to be released for
Eons without choice.
“Heave into sight,” shouted
The First Mate, and from the crow’s nest
Then hollered down, “Nary a fear
Is in view, just whitecaps
And blue sky in natural union
Abounding.”