Early morning ruminations of Miz. Ann Thrope

As the world sleeps, I sit contemplating the sweet complicity of life. The subtle ironies that elude one in youth but put you in awe in later years. I think about:

How simple life was as a child, rise, dress, eat, play, learn, laugh, cry and sleep.

The power of a mother’s pain eradicating kiss, a father’s protective hug.

The fretting over beauty, form and those ephemeral qualities that in youth, weigh heavy, but in the end mean so very little.

Words, small utterances universally understood, often underrated, uncensored, and underestimated.

Space in it’s vastness, it’s beauty, it’s isolation, the craving for it, fear of it, and the peace and torment that it can yeild.

I think about people, loved, lost, and passed away their faces, the sound of their voices their touch, scent and laughter fade but the essence of their beings remain forever embossed on our souls.

I think about laughter and tears and marvel at how closely they reside, much like joy and sorrow, and fear and utter abandon.

I contemplate life, paths that cross, intertwine, run parallel never to touch but in some cosmic way work in tandem.

In the quiet stillness of the morning I wonder “WHY THE HELL I CAN’T GET TO SLEEP”