an old writer and his words

  • TWO SEASONS (HAIKU)

    Blue heron takes flight giant wings stir wispy clouds April emerges. December garden faceless Buddha loudly laughs wriggling toes in snow.

    Lou Faber

  • TRYPTICH (HAIKU

    shout Yuki Onna I have wandered from my course snow piles at my feet   gold Chrysanthemum blooms bright in the summer sun pure water of life   a pebble is plucked from the lake, ripples move in, singularity.

    Lou Faber

  • PRACTICE (TANKA)

    In the Buddha Hall autumn daylight filters through the half closed windows. In the garden, Kannon stoops to pick up a fallen leaf.

    Lou Faber

  • THREE VIEWS OF WINTER (HAIKU)

    cat curls by the fire dreaming of summer flowers snow falls in laughter now barren branches of the locust tree shiver in the midnight breeze a raging sun sets as cranes raise wings in farewell winter awakens

    Lou Faber

  • QUARTET (HAIKU)

    pond’s surface ripples each following another stone hidden from sight the old monk listens to the song of the passing breeze stars sing the refrain Buddha walks the road ignoring all around him each finds a teacher a circular path will take you nowhere quickly again and again

    Lou Faber

  • THREE HAIKU

    Giant cranes are perched on thin spindly legs, necks bowed steel beams scratch the clouds. Needle-like church spires reach through the gathering mist clouds begin to bleed. Walls stand in the field one stone piled on another grass withers in shade.

    Lou Faber

  • TWO THOUGHTS

      Stare at a still pond, hear the birds “Beedu, Beedu,” now truly listen. . .   Tomorrow is gone, yesterday has disappeared. What moment is this?

    Lou Faber

  • DUAL SINGULARITY

    Stare at white sand surrounding the polished stone, listen to the earth. The stone knows no pain falling to the pond’s bottom, ripples comfort it.

    Lou Faber