Some come like the moon —

with a prayer in their heart.

They quietly watch from a distance,

send me their best wishes

and withdraw without a fuss,

leaving with me a part of their silence.

Some come like a bumble bee —

singing loudly and cheerfully.

They break into a dance

and pull me heart and soul

into their celebrations.

They part the same way,

singing and dancing,

leaving with me a part of their festivities.

But many come like a salesman —

ready to shove their agenda down my throat.

They neither ask anything nor listen.

They only want to know

whether I have heard them or not.

If I have heard them,

whether I have understood or not.

If I have understood them,

whether I will do as they say or not.

And when they leave, they leave

with me a part of their restlessness.