People Listen, A writer Observes

In this world, where everyone is busy

Sorting out their own problems,

When people have no time to listen 

What their dearest one is trying to say,

There stands the writer, unique

She is also very busy,

Scribbling her heart out,

Listening to the wind's music,

Longing to hear the chirping of birds, 

And trying to find out their language,

The rhythm of the petrichor,

The smell of a book,

The ink on her hand,

The flickering of page,

The flame of a candle,

The comma in the paragraph,

The shade in the picture,

To her, they are all conveying something,

She tries to give shape 

To the world with her word,

She can weave words with your silence,

People listen, A writer observes.