“Reflection and Reflections

“Reflection and Reflections”
Looking through the window of the bus I am riding in, I can see the storefronts and people running or walking.  Life, everyone going somewhere, doing something they want to do or need to do.  With very little effort of mind and vision, I change my sight from looking through the glass to looking at the glass.  Now I see my reflection, but it is not the true me.  In the reflection right is left and left is right, none the less the reflection is vivid but lifeless.  Vivid but for the sound of a beating heart, the warmth of the body or the wisp of breath in the cold of the morning, a two dimensional vision.

Again with a slight adjustment of my vision and mind I return to my reflection on the glass.  I see others reflected on the glass.  They also seem to be alive, but the reflection though vivid is lifeless.  I adjust my vision again and now my reflection is part of the activity outside of the bus.  I am visually part of it, but not physically.  I face no peril,  again my reflection is not part of the living.

Similar to this vision are the memories of my yesterdays, vivid but lifeless.  A life that was lived but is now gone, but for the reflection of my mind.  My mind, a place where memories are relived and thoughts of the future are visualized.  As real as they may seem, they are lifeless, for I cannot feel the physical pain of the past nor can I embrace the joyful feeling of the future.

Leaving the security of my reflection, I stepped off the bus, I felt the cold of the morning air, I hear the sounds of the traffic and the people on the street.  I am now part of the living, life with its joys and sadness, with its labor and hope, I am alive.

To become a part of living takes a slight adjustment of vision and mind, nothing else.  One must leave the safety of reflection and step into the unknown of life.  Leave reflection to what it is only a memory or a wish with no physical pain or joy.

Your vision and your mind can encase you in a lonely and lifeless reflection, vivid but lifeless.

Roberto juarez


This entry was posted in Big Spender, boyle heights, bus observations, poem, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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