Smoldering Ashes of My Past

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

A gentle breeze betrays the harshness of the escaping day, as I begin to see approaching shadows overtake the fracturing twilight scurrying into the recesses of abandoned time. And the setting sun reflects its dimming brilliance on the meandering and flowing waters of the Rio Grande.

SMOLDERING ASHES OF MY PAST

By Al Garcia

A gentle breeze betrays the harshness of the escaping day, as I begin to see approaching shadows overtake the fracturing twilight scurrying into the recesses of abandoned time.  And the setting sun reflects its dimming brilliance on the meandering and flowing waters of the Rio Grande. 

It is the sunset that illuminates the beauty and tranquility of the gentle current that moves the nectar that nourishes the richness of the Valley beyond the river’s edge.  And it is the approaching night that exposes the dreams and hopes that once filled the hearts and minds of desperate souls in search of shelter from the suffocating winds of despair and torment that blow across the Rio Grande and through the fields and pastures that once defined and outlined the wealth, the strength and the heart of a valley and a people, divided and disillusioned. 

it is the night that brings back smoldering memories of exhausted and beaten bodies and minds, and visions of huddled masses, lost and afraid, staring silently and pleadingly into darkened hearts with no sympathy or compassion, that now weakens and pains my beating heart and flailing soul. 

It is the night that covers the wounds that hate once inflicted upon the weak and meek who only sought to breath and feel the embrace of freedom’s caress of their shattered dreams and abandoned hope that overwhelmed their beaten and berated souls. 

It is the night that betrays and reveals.  And it was the long and lonely nights of long ago that brought the morning light and the sight of discarded and abandoned dreams littered along the river bank, now just smoldering ashes of my past. 

I am the sum of dreams and hopes that once fueled the passion and the hunger of the human spirit and the human heart.  I am but a creature of nature and of time, possessed of all who once dared to see beyond the river’s edge.  I can still feel the pain and sense the hopelessness and despair once felt and shared by pioneers who saw their dreams began to fade and die under the not Texas sun.  For there is a bond of flesh and blood and tears that knows no borders, no rivers, no walls and no time -- they form the deep roots that helped to nurture and sustain the body and the soul that defines the person that I am. 

I have seen too many tears along the river bank and in the valley that lies beyond.  I have experienced and heard about the scattered and shattered dreams and abandoned hope left littered and strewed like discarded refuse after a storm by overwhelmed and exhausted dreamers lured to the river’s edge by the human instinct to believe in dreams.  I can but imagine the plight and the delight that brought my ancestors to venture across the waters of the Rio Grande -- pilgrims following the rainbow and dreams that promised hope and expectations beyond their imagination. 

And now I sense the wisps of hope and possibilities begin to rise from the smoldering ashes of my past.  I feel a reawakening of dreams, and a resurgence of the imagination that once inspired ordinary people to shape and mold an empire and a nation. 

I am the sum of dreams and hopes that once fueled the passion and the hunger of the human spirit and the human heart, that sought, that found and that helped to build a nation of dreams.


Submitted: May 24, 2021

© Copyright 2021 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

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