Loneliness is onlyness , death a bummer.
Everyone goes about their sun business,
While the water motor goes on pumping .
A son went away this way four years ago
And not returned to finger-point stars ?
You are not only one, of mustard seeds.
Mustard seeds are as many as sky’s stars
And from every veranda and every porch
Everyone goes about daily sun business.
At night, count stars from his last count.
They are many in night sky like mustard,
With many others on daily sun business.
(To a mother asking for the return of her dead son,Buddha said ‘bring me a mustard from a house that has not seen death’)