Nonchalance

The alphabet while they sit
Side by side to form words.
Do they talk?

And the bank pages, while
They lie upon each other,
Feel the urge to invent a
Language to say it all?

Consider the silence between
The thoughts before they
Get connected, to come out
Of your mouth.

The silence between
The names of lovers etched on
The distant rocks,
After they fall apart.

Consider the silence before
The drum-stick hits the drum
Before your fingers poke
The strings of the guitar, and

The silence before a song falls
On someone's ears and sync
With beats of their heart.
The silence of the river before-

It joins the sea in apprehension.
And the silence of the unfilled
Prayers of the kids who didn't
Get their share of toys.

Scorched earth while it sat
Flaunting it's aridity and
The raindrop before it transferred
To it, Its vulnerability-

Did the silence of both extremes
Feel the urge to shout out
Their union for the sweet pleasure
Of olfactory lobes? Or

The Petrichor is just a fusion
Of reinforced silence to display
The nonchalance of day-to-day
Romance in nature?