THE MOMENT OF TRUTH

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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 isn’t here yet.

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

The Truth of Peril is that it is never 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?

Anything…?

At all?

May we speak authoritatively about the unknowable?

Is Truth discovered?

Defended?

Amended?

Upended?

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?

Perhaps…

Or Not

The Truth of Now is that it never, ever leaves us. The same is often said of God.

 

lee_broom
Thank you. Lee Broom.

 

 

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BON VOYAGE

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BON VOYAGE

 

The pathway to Knowledge is paved with Love.

The measure of distance is unusually incomprehensible.

The vision of Destiny is absolutely unfathomable.

That Faith is required begs the question.

Bon Voyage.

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Lee Broom

THE MEASURE OF TIMELESSNESS

A full-sky NASA map of the oldest light in the universe — the aftermath of the Big Bang. Colors indicate “warmer” (red) and “cooler” (blue) spots. The oval shape is a projection to display the whole sky; similar to the way the globe of the earth can be represented as an oval.

 

THE MEASURE OF TIMELESSNESS

The pathway to Knowledge is paved with Love.

The measure of distance is unusually incomprehensible.

The vision of Destiny is absolutely unfathomable.

That Faith is required begs the question.

 

IN SEARCH OF LEADERSHIP. Once an essay – now a love story

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LOVE ON A HIGH WIRE

It is impossible as head-nodders for us to learn the true subject of our gossip.

But chatter we do,
nod we do,
smile and frown and clap we do…

like starlings at early dawn,
we protest, quarrel and yawn.

We flap, we rustle, we cling together and rise afeather…
seeking the leader
whose silent tether

greets the grey of gloomy,
now gone.

As sundown teases, murmeration ceases;  with one last rustle, we rhyme with the rhythm of billowing blather,
our restlessness astir
as darkness overcomes.

Tomorrow we rise a-more
and like dawnings come before…

we’ll dismount from our roosts, our heads awaggle,we’ll gossip and gaggle; we’ll harp – we will haggle

And as the bloated carcasses of our forgotten comrades add nourishment to the earth, one or two will ask “do you remember whats-her-name?”.

“Oh yes” we reply, “she had so many strange, new ideas”.

And with heads abob we bestow our final, limited approval in measured doses…

and our world nods approval to the brief observance of continuity,
forgetting yet
another
Love Story.

 


Lee Broom