Living Calls - Next morning edit

The air is calm.  It passes through the open window beside me and seeps through the logs of this cabin like a kind thief, wishing for me not to wake but allowing me no sleep with its presence.  Laying here on this bed my eyes are open and my ears are fixed on the commotion beyond these walls.

Outside the crickets' commotion is at crescendo. There must be thousands of them.  In a few hours it will be morning and they will have missed their chance.  It's been hours already, hours of calling out for a mate.  Asking to be heard, to be noticed, to be chosen.  If this doesn't happen now it may never for them; all of the frantic commotion heard in these final hours of the night are an instinctive reminder to each of them that tomorrow they may meet their final hour. Life is hard but for this they are lucky, these crickets.  Every night they create this commotion, they sing and they dance with all that they have on the line, because there is never any reason to save, there is no reason to hold back.  Only the deeply religious have been promised a life after this one where they can try again, but even they are not promised more than tomorrow in this life.  So they reason: If we don't find what we need in our lives tonight, if tonight we are not heard, not sought after, not found, then what is it all for?  Crickets remember what we spend our whole lives trying to forget. 

Every night is an opportunity to either spend life or die saving. We love our possessions, so we try to posses and save even life itself.  Tomorrow I'll live, spend life living, but today I'm going to save up, put life away somewhere safe with all the other lives I haven't lived.  Yes, on a rainy day I'll go back to the vault of my past desires and finally start spending life happily.  Only on rainy days do we ever seem to remember what we would do if it were sunny.

I suppose we're not so different from crickets. We wait until the dark to appreciate the light, they wait until the possible end to finally start.  After all, crickets seem to do a lot of hoping and praying as well, just listen to them out there with those mating calls.  I wonder though, if they truly are aware of how silly all of this waiting is.  If they were, they would know that while we are no better than them, they are no better than us, with those mating calls.  Mating calls are just active wishing, and wishing is not trying. Wishing is not living. Someone has to make a move to make it happen. Mating calls are for the inert, for those who wish to die, I will spend my life making living calls.