Sunday Morning Reflections

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

We are but reflections in the whirling pool of time. Ever-changing images and shadows, grasping at the golden rays of light.


By Al Garcia

We are but reflections in the whirling pool of time.  Ever-changing images and shadows, grasping at the golden rays of light.  Thrashing through the maze of deflected and abandoned souls in search of final rest among the discarded dreams left to whither on lonely tear-drenched strands of hope, before dissolving into the nothingness of the expanse of time.

One moment in time, like a grain of sand, a reflection of a billion lifetimes, lived and shared and mourned.  Tears, like drops of water in the ocean, washing against the battered and beaten souls of disillusioned drifters in a raging sea of discontent and restlessness.

There is a loneliness that invades the human heart when time begins to fade.  There is a hollowness and emptiness that consumes the passion and the hunger that used to dwell within.  And the normalcy of life as it used to be, begins to change. 

We are beginning to see and feel, and finally realize, the vulnerability and susceptibility of our existence in a different and more profound way.  We are experiencing a rebirth of human virtues long forgotten and abandoned.  We are rediscovering the meaning of life, and the need we have for one another.  The dark and gloomy clouds, and the shadows that have darkened the sky and our horizon, have enlightened hearts and souls once immune from empathy and sympathy for their fellow man. 

Life was so different when different people in different places, at different times, were dealing with their own difficulties, their own wars and battles, and their own plights and disasters that seemed to overwhelm and devastate them.  We had no time to commiserate or sympathize, and our lives went on without failing a beat.

And now, in one moment in time, the world has changed.  Our lives have changed.  The world is sharing, feeling, and suffering together, at the same time, the same fear, the same affliction, and for once, sharing the same tears.

The world has become one, without walls, without borders and boundaries, without disparities in color, religious or political affiliations, ethnicity, affluence or influence.  For the first time in forever, people the world over are coming to terms with the fact that we are all connected, one to the other, in body, heart and soul.  We are the human race, with no need to compete, battle or campaign against each other. 

And on this Sunday morning, we have time to ponder and to wonder about faith, about hope, and about the world-wide crises that has brought us together to realize that divided, separated and isolated, we cannot live the life that was meant to be.  We are no longer strangers in an ever-shrinking world. 

This Sunday morning, I opened my eyes, my mind and my heart.  This Sunday morning, I let the spirit of Almighty enlighten, enrich and embolden my understanding and acceptance of my fellow man.  And I wonder why there is not but one reflection of our humanity, and not the unrecognizable images of the lonely and desperate strangers we used to be.

With the world around me in chaos and confusion, on this Sunday morning I am also mesmerized by the attempt to degrade and demean our intellect, our aptitude and our acuity as a nation and as a people of proven wisdom and knowledge.  We are returning to the eloquence of the power and the inspiration of the Office of the Presidency, when once it was a demented manifestation of the worst in us, determined to persuade us of our inability to think and reason on our own, or to speak or feel our empathy or compassion, or imagine or conceive of a more perfect union, and of a more just and equal America. 

It is aspiring to once again strive for the stars and seek to achieve the incredible and the unimaginable, when only yesterday we were being asked to march back into the abyss of the worst of our times, and to embrace the cruelest and the vilest of our human instincts.  I recall when Sunday morning was a time of reflection and of deliberation.  When Sundays were a time of reminiscing and of yearning for the days of glory and of faith, when church bells rang, choirs sang, and faith kept hope alive. 

Sunday morning reflections that seemed to be fading and waning with the eroding American Dream, once again bright with human passion and compassion.  The motivation that inspired ordinary men to let loose a nation to explore and to flourish, once again igniting the human imagination.  And lonely, abandoned and lost are those who attempted to tear asunder the dreams and shackle the passion that nurtured the greatness of our nation. 

United, we have stood for generations upon generations.  Divided, we will fall to our knees, and our breathe will be taken away.  And on this Sunday morning, I still see and hear too many Americans, acting like sheep, willingly being led to the slaughter.  And I see too many Americans, acting like Judas -- betrayers, traitors and turncoats to their very heritage and legacy, and to the American dream that so many paid for with their blood and their lives. 

My once beautiful Sunday morning reflections are now shaded with the treachery and deceit of human arrogance and corruption.  Gone are the gardens of hope and the fields of glory that used to bloom and blossom in my America.  Gone are the days of innocence, of truth, and of courage.  It is Sunday morning in a new America. 

I am left to remember, when church bells rang and choirs sang, and when I used to believe in miracles, and in my fellow man.  Maybe, just maybe, we can return to the days of innocence and of hope.  Maybe, just maybe, this Sunday morning is the beginning of a return to the normalcy of my father’s days -- when the human heart believed, when the human soul felt, and when the human mind grasped the power of our humanity if left to blossom and bloom under the golden rays of sun. 

Submitted: May 22, 2021

© Copyright 2021 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


CJ Spuddz

From the first sentence to the last, this was an extremely powerful piece of writing. I love your writing style: it’s moving and exceptionally well-written poetically, but also really had me thinking, as would an opinion piece. It’s an extremely relatable read for me as a US citizen, knowing how unfortunate the political climate in our country has become. At the same time I still feel a glimmer of hope and decency when reading the Bible and knowing the unity and hope many people feel through faith, in church and elsewhere. Bridging the gap between God’s ideal world and the reality of today’s world is a tough subject to confront, and you’ve captured it perfectly through this piece.

Sat, May 29th, 2021 7:00pm


Wow, you leave me speechless! And for me, that says a lot!

Thank you. Being on this platform with other writers is inspiring. I am learning how much alike and how much in common we have. Memories and the human imagination make for a powerful combination. To be able to connect words with thoughts, and to make them both come alive is any writer's goal. I will continue to strive to accomplish that. And words like yours inspire me to believe that I'm on the right track. Thank you again.

Sat, May 29th, 2021 2:02pm

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