2 21 2013 The Tree

It began with a glimmer, a sliver of light.

In a matter of minutes the glow was right.

And the Meadowlark sang its song.

Another Lark………… another, again.

A feathery chorus was now on hand

As The Boy mimicked their song .

More Meadowlarks sang along.

And The Boy became a man.


The Year was not New. It was warm,

There was dew as the day took form

Like a voice from Heaven

The boy of eleven,

Joined the choir of Meadowlark Hill.


This morning was more than a day in the life,

This newborn man

Met the day now rife

With the pleasance of Trill

On The Hill of The Larks.

On The Hill of The Man.

A humble young Man

Said Thank You.


Thank You he said again.

Again and again and again.

By Lee Broom

The Moment of Truth


True Memory includes the Future.

The Truth of History is that it has no Beginning.

The Truth of The Beginning is that it has not yet arrived.

The Truth of Now is that it never, ever leaves us.

The Truth of Peril is that it is rarely a surprise.

The Truth of Fear is that it exists only in the future.

The Truth about the Future is that it does not exist at all.

The Truth about the Past is that it came too soon, left to fast and never really was.

So what must we, can we (do we want to?) do?

The Next thing? The Right thing? The Best thing? The Best guessed thing?


At all?

May we speak authoritatively about the unknowable?

Is Truth discovered?




The Truth of All is in Forever.

The Truth about The Lie is that it is not.

Every response to Fear, every Smile, every Frown, every Attack upon another, every bolt of frightening, tightening in the gut in the rush to save another…

Every Flash of lightning (tut-tut), is known to each and warmed by all.

The Truth?


Or Not

The Truth of Now is that it never, ever leaves us.

The same is often said of God.



What could be more comfortable

Than a frayed collar

On the white, broadcloth dress shirt

That you wore to the 2012 convention?

Did your guy win?

Did you win?

Were you wearing a Windsor knot?

Is that shirt with the frayed collar still hanging in your closest?

Will you wear it beneath the jacket of a hand tailored DC suit when you cast your ballot in 2016?


(And while you’re at it, wear your best, black, knee-length socks.)


The Rest of Me is Fearless,

The Rest of Me is Loving,

The Rest of Me is Successful,

The Rest of Me is Giving,

The Rest of Me is ForGiving,

The Rest of Me ignores temptation, fear and emptiness.

To ignore The Rest of Me is like walking after sundown on an unlit street,
cursing the crutches which support my faceless image,
the excuses,
the justifications,
the incessant mutterings
and the clamor of conflict
intruding on the Beauty around me.

I need no crutches, nor do I curse them; I simply say “Yes” to The Rest of Me……..

I say “Yes” to The Rest of Me”