When he chose silence it was
such a flourish, it had to be shared
with everyone or anyone who heard
leaves, windows, blank page
rustled, creaked, gawked
at his un-worded confidences
skies rushed with clouds grey
rumbling threatening, lest
their business was disturbed
workers on the road - construction
shopkeepers, geeks to work -
grumbled, and ignored his advances
phones rang, radios sang, even birds
shook wet wings, their movement
relentless, so absorbed
he was like a child charged with joy
sans cause, touching the palette
unknown, without expressions
a boulder by the river, a floating
feather, a friend’s memory, barbs
the wrongly said - they all dissolved
without disappointment or elation, he
moved soundlessly with the unuttered
making a shawl for all silences.
Aanand
