an old writer and his words

  • AUTUMN

      Once again I can imagine it arriving one morning probably unannounced. I won’t see it coming until I find myself in the middle of it, wrapped up within, always knowing that it will slide away without warning and the leaves will fall in regret.

    Lou Faber

  • JIZO PLANTS THE FIELD

    If you truly want to walk in the footsteps of the Buddha stand perfectly still and unmoving. If you truly want to comprehend the whole of the Dharma put down all of your books and scrolls, roll up your sleeves and plant the barren fields, clearing away rocks and stones. If you want to taste…

    Lou Faber

  • ONLY NOW

    Tomorrow, in all likelihood, the park will still be there, we will still be walking there, the Austrian Pines will still stare down at us on the path, and the cardinal will flash by, his cry for attention in a red blaze. Tomorrow all this will likely happen as it did yesterday and last week,…

    Lou Faber

  • NIGHT ARRIVES

      As night advances, the clouds march in slow retreat to the horizon under the tattoo of the crows cadenced cawing. Once gone from sight, under the always watchful moon, they shall regroup and prepare to reemerge in the first shadow of the sun of morning.

    Lou Faber

  • ECLIPSED

      Tomorrow the moon will be full of herself hiding behind the cape of the afternoon sun. It is of no matter the moon would say if asked, for this doesn’t happen often. She would dazzle our eyes if she dared show her ancient face but not tomorrow, not this once in a blue moon.…

    Lou Faber

  • PEBBLE

    In this moment there is and can be no other. And when it is gone it never existed much as the next will never exist. So it is with us, a reflection of the ripple of the long sunk stone now nestling the bottom of the pond.  

    Lou Faber

  • ARRIVAL

    Night arrives, the rain arrives, and the sun is washed away to dry beyond the horizon and there to prepare to reappear.

    Lou Faber

  • ISAN’S QUESTION 鐵笛倒吹 二十九

    Gather each single leaf from the stones of the garden and place it neatly in a bushel. It will take weeks or months to gather them all even if you have windless days, but this is important work. When the last leaf is gathered take up the bushel and throw the leaves into the garden,…

    Lou Faber

  • HALT

      But what if, just once time slowed significantly or even stopped. A bird becomes frozen in the sky, not moving, not falling, staring at the distant tree in total stillness. A drop of rain hovers just over the grass dreaming of chlorophyl. If you had such a moment how would you wish to spend…

    Lou Faber

  • A LIFE, LIVED

    The moon, a warm summer night, two ducks, a pond, utter stillness, a mirror weeping, deep purple velvet, a feather racing a leaf across the morning sky, a door swinging, a gate without hinges.

    Lou Faber