This one is an inspiration from a Rabindranath Tagore poem... I read his poem and somehow felt about penning this down...

When she steps out alone at night,
The birds do not sing, the wind does not stir,
It is her own anklets that grow loud at every step.

When I sit by the side and listen for her steps,
The leaves do not rustle, the crickets do not chirp,
It is my own heart that beats wildly - I do not know how to quieten it.

I sit there long, anxious for a glimpse,
The shadows do not move, the lamps do not flicker,
It is only me that is restless, the anticipation not leaving me still.

At last! She appears, walking down the street,
The birds, they sing; the wind blows along,
The leaves, they rustle; the crickets chirp away,
The shadows, they dance; the lamps flickering away,
The whole world seems to have come alive,
As my heart beats wilder still.