an old writer and his words

  • ON THIS NIGHT

    On this night the moon retreats from the sky, leaving the stars to play hide and seek behind broken clouds. The silence is enfolding, save for the whistle of a distant train traversing the city, and the whisper of the wind caressing the needles of the pine who answer wih a passionate moan.

    Lou Faber

  • SEKITO’S GREAT AND SMALL CANON 正法眼蔵 語十三

    This wave touches the shore just as it should, that wave touches the shore just as it should. You may wait an eternity for a wave that touches but not as it should or you can sit and let the waves wash over you. A reflection on Case 53 of the Shobogenzo (Master Dogen”s True…

    Lou Faber

  • RELATIVELY SPEAKING

    “We created time,” he said, “so we are free to ignore it whenever we wish, don’t tell me that I am late, for that is only by your clock and you should know that most clocks are never right. It is only the stopped clock that is right, and that only twice each day.” We…

    Lou Faber

  • WALKING

    The entirety of this practice is to learn to walk with a lightness, so that you contact the earth, the grass, not tread on it, so that the earth and the grass caress your feet and not try to push them away, and all the while there must be a gentleness of breath so the…

    Lou Faber

  • EVENTIDE

    The sky is the leaden gray that denies the sun and threatens the moon’s arrival. It presses down on the roofs of the tallest buildings, wraps them in a depression those on the street below feel without need of looking up. This is a teasing sky, a drop here, there, until we know we are…

    Lou Faber

  • INFINITY

    A three year old can easily understand that a full cup can hold nothing  but an empty cup has an infinite capacity.

    Lou Faber

  • COFFEE ROASTING

    They dance defiantly denying gravity as they tumble through the air. They cede their color reluctantly, Now a beige, but soon a defiant chocolate-brown, milk turning slowly dark. They entice you, their perfume perhaps too strong for some, but it draws you in and you cannot help but imagine how the thought of them will…

    Lou Faber

  • LUNA BECKONS

    The perigee moon hangs heavily over the city, clinging to the horizon as though it wishes to flee deep into the night, turning away the attention in inevitably draws. We are pulled toward it by some deeply felt force that we know we dare not question, for we must honor the moon’s secrets as we…

    Lou Faber

  • BORROWED LIGHT

    The gray, velvet curtain of clouds parted ever so briefly last night revealing a moon, growing more full of herself, as she peered out. I was there to see her, the form of smile shared between us despite the chill of the too winter-like spring. This morning the sad drooping daffodils said they saw her…

    Lou Faber

  • ODE TO THE CAT

    I read a poem today about a cat and the memory of my last cat came to mind, and with it, the certainty that cats have an innate sense of people which people utterly lack. It may be that cats are completely ignorant of the masks we wear, or simply that they could care less…

    Lou Faber