Somewhere in the early evening hours the sounds of traffic grate against my senses which long for the quietness of night sounds. Tree frogs, owls, crickets, the wind in the pine trees.
Someday perhaps I will find that place of solitude where my squeaking rocker will calm my spirit and soul. Someday, there will be a place to hear the falling leaves, to hear the grass grow, to hear the whisper of the butterflies as they flit from flower to flower.
Someday I will find that place…it does exist…maybe in my mind but I can go there at any time…in the hidden recess of my brain is the someday of the spirit that tells me that all is at peace in this world of gray matter grown weary with sounds.