an old writer and his words

  • AN AVIAN MESSAGE

    The birds departed one morning which we believe may be how they express displeasure, although the destruction of the nests and the death of the children by predators may have had something to do with the departure. We wait patiently for their return, the wetland still dry, but we hope with the wet season that…

    Lou Faber

  • FOR RAIN

    The clouds build slowly, turning the sky from blue to ever darkening shades of gray. He hopes it will rain, rain heavily, as the ground is parched, the wetland a bog, and the birds have moved on in search of water. He watches the build up, the clouds accreting, and he waits for the first…

    Lou Faber

  • SOZAN’S FALLING AND RISING 正法眼蔵 三十三

    When you fallearth on one sidesky the other.When you rise,earth on one sidesky the other.When there is no falling,no sky, no earth,when there is no risingno earth, no sky.Sky and earthdo not stand still. A reflection on Case 33 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s True Dharma Eye) Koans

    Lou Faber

  • OF THE SEASONS

    In the heart of winter, then,which seemed unendingI would stare out at the maplesbarren branches piledin ever tottering snowand dream of palm treesand a warm ocean breeze. In heart of winter now,such as it is, all I seeare endless palms andmany Southern Live Oaks,their branches piledunder a heavy burdenof sagging Spanish Mossand I dream of…

    Lou Faber

  • FATHER AND SON

    We sat in the small boat,the motor still, drifting downstream,our lines in the water, the bobbersdancing in the morning breeze. He smiled, proud that we weredoing this together, he who knewless about fishing than I, his son,and I knowing next to nothing. I kept casting into the weeds,hoping they would tangle myline, free the worm…

    Lou Faber

  • FLIGHT

    We imagine that they aredisappearing into the cloudsonly to reemergein a different place. Nothing could be furtherfrom the truth for they,these raptors flyingon monstroius wings,are shredding the cloudsripping free their fruit,eating of the sweetestparts, letting the restfall down on usas we scurry awayafraid of being soakedin their remnants.

    Lou Faber

  • WETLAND HAIKU

    Beside the still ponddragonflies hover lightlysenbazuru dawn The Great Egret staresthe still pond returns his staredawning sun laughing Clouds swallow the moonmoorhens chanting their vesperssleep overtakes us A dragonfly sitswaiting for us to take winggravity says no

    Lou Faber

  • THEM, AGAIN

    They say that you shouldnever approach or toucha small bird, lest it he shunned,perhaps to death, by your scent. I’ve never been one to listento any “them” with whom Icannot argue face to face,and so seeing the small bird on the ground curledin its nest, staring upat the branch from whichshe parachuted groundward I scoop…

    Lou Faber

  • CONVERSATION

    Arising into nightthe departing suntangoes away with its cloud,memories soon forgotten.Other dancers take the stage,now a romance, nowa war dance, feathers raisedin prayer to unseen gods.Night will soon bringits curtain across this stage,the avian cast’s final bows takenthe theatre will darken, awaitinganother performance,a new script tomorrow,but for this solitary momentof frozen grace, it is wewho…

    Lou Faber

  • APPROACHING AUTUMN

    This is the seasonwhen the maplesbegan their rainof colored tears. It may still be so,but not here,and the palmsknow no seasons. Once there wasa veil of lilac,bushes trying tooutdo the others. But at leastthe magnolias carenothing for distanceoffering their beauty here and where wenow have onlymemories of the ebband flow of seasons.

    Lou Faber