Days I let go by

Days go by while the wind through the Norway's long pine needles whooshes and softens the shrill chirping of woodpeckers and other late night birds along the lake.  Peace seems inevitable.  Everlasting, even. Quiet nights, except for the sounds from the woods.  How I wanted out.  Nothing but the sounds of life, outside.  Not inside.  I did find sounds of owls and loons and chipmunks breaking way dead leaves, scurrying to find food calming.  Even the scare of dark silence in the woods brings me comfort now.  I miss the luxury of being alone and hearing life as it is outside of me.  All I hear now is life inside my head.  The bubbling over of pasta water on an old electic stove and its sizzle as it drips down the pot encrusting my cooktop with carbon grime while trying to handle all the squawking reqests and demands of two young boys.  The life I have is full of these sounds.  Sounds like shrieking voices and wails following children's aggressions toward one another.  A dog scrambling underfoot, sniffing out a morsel of dinner dropped on ceramic tile.  The constant calling of "Mom?" with nasal voice from all of my favorite people in the world.  I have yet to admit I like this melody. Until I miss it entirely because its the single one I'm lucky enough to hear all the time now.