Do You See What I See?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic

I used to open my windows in the morning, look out into an awakening day, and I used to see the promise that awaited me. I used to feel a sense of purpose, and I used to relish reaching out to try to grasp the golden ring. Those were the days not long ago, when I used to dream, and when the energy and vigor of life used to blossom and bloom with the morning mist.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?

By Al Garcia

I used to open my windows in the morning, look out into an awakening day, and I used to see the promise that awaited me.  I used to feel a sense of purpose, and I used to relish reaching out to try to grasp the golden ring.  Those were the days not long ago, when I used to dream, and when the energy and vigor of life used to blossom and bloom with the morning mist.

The days now imprison our minds and our bodies.  Endless, incessant moments that swirl and spin around us, never moving, never changing.  Hopelessness fighting its way into the very essence of our being.  Despair and anguish waiting for a chance to overcome the tranquility and calm that used fuel the very core of us.  Now silence and isolation.  An emptiness that slays the dreams that used to keep alive the humanness within. 

Do you see what I see?  Do you feel what I feel? 

We find ourselves drowning in a sea of abandoned and forsaken dreams, with tidal waves of desperation and fear falling on tired and wretched souls.  Once filled with quixotic notions and grand designs, our minds now stifled to accept the practical, the sensible, the ordinary.  The romance of noble deeds, and the pursuit of unreachable goals, displaced by the urgency of simply staying alive.

And through the chaos and bedlam of where we find ourselves today, the rhetoric, pomposity and vanity of unhinged and unbalanced minds continue to lambast and condemn the days that used be.  Days of fire and glory.  Days when we felt passion in our bellies, and triumph in our souls.  Days when dreams took root in minds and hearts, and moments when hope, courage and optimism bloomed.

Do you see what I see?  Do you feel what I feel? 

I used to open my windows in the morning, look out into an awakening day, and I used to see the promise that awaited me.  Now, I am afraid to open the window for fear of what I’ll see.  Fear of the shadows that have replaced the morning rays of sun.  Dread at feeling a sense of indifference, irrelevance, meaninglessness.  Apprehension that the darkening clouds will not float away, but will bring the night, and the screams in the dark that unsettle the fragile human mind.

It is scary to think that at this moment in time, we feel helpless and alone.  I see the path ahead fraught with tangled webs of lies, deceit and greed.  And I feel helpless and even hopeless with the possibility that we have already been betrayed and misled.  Deep down inside of me I can feel and even envision someone with a pocket full of thirty pieces of silver, betraying us, abandoning us, and walking away with a grin on their face, and cloaking their black and tarnished heart with lifeless and listless red, whjte and blue patriotic emblems, embellished in gold. And I can almost hear the utterance of words we’ve heard before, “I take no responsibility,” or “It is what it is.”

Do you see what I see?  Do you feel what I feel?  Have you heard what I’ve heard -- the silence and the whimpers?


Submitted: May 24, 2021

© Copyright 2021 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

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