Alpha and Omega

The first few years of life is little different than death or dreamless sleep There is nothing we can recall as if we didn’t exist at all events failing to stick like an omelet sliding perfectly from a Teflon pan onto a plate or sand slipping through splayed fingers Then for a time there are fleeting flashes of cognizance captured like faded photographs pasted on the fragile pages of an old scrapbook sans captions to provide context Next we simply ‘are’ with no fanfare as if we’ve always been no light bulb of realization no line of demarcation believing that we matter in the scheme of things which is when our sorrow begins the world proceeding as it spins as it did before our birth and will continue to do after our end to disabuse us of that naïve notion