an old writer and his words

  • JIASHAN SEES THE FERRYMAN

    You offer to me that which I cannot take, I refuse to give you the one thing you can accept. We each have nothing and give nothing, and are happy for the perfect gift. A musing on Case 90 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s True Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber

  • TIME’S ARROW

    Before the after now is present. It was never like this before, it will not be again anytime soon, for there is no time soon that has yet to be or just gone by. After the before we find ourselves here and now.

    Lou Faber

  • ROAD TRIP

    Two nights gone and sleep has come fitfully, and I stir each time I reach across the bed and you aren’t there, and there is only the faintest smell of bleach and cleaning solvent. I want very much to dream of you, to trace your cheek with dream fingers, to taste your lips on mine,…

    Lou Faber

  • AN OX GOES THROUGH A LATTICE WINDOW

    If you see an animal sitting neck-deep in the mud do you wonder how lucky it is that, having fallen in, its head has not been swallowed? Or do you consider that it stuck its head out of the mud to gaze into the sky? When you are immersed in dharma do you hold back your…

    Lou Faber

  • MORNING BECOMES

    We awaken and look at each other as though we are meeting for the first time. Your eyes seem new to me, but well remembered, a place I have often been, which is always new, always where I want to go, from which I want to never return. I trace your chin, your shoulder-blade, and…

    Lou Faber

  • NO TWO

    If you ask me whether a dog has Buddha nature, I will stare back at you in total silence. If you ask again, or implore an answer, I will smile at you, offer gassho and a bow. If you ask yet again, I will turn away and you will be left with a box into…

    Lou Faber

  • DISEMBARKING NARITA

    You disembark quickly a small bow to the flight crew, and walk briskly to immigration. The young man glances at your passport and embarkation card hands flying with the stamps. The baggage is offloaded onto the creeping segmented belt yours the fifth through the heavy plastic flaps hefted onto the cart. The customs agent pauses…

    Lou Faber

  • AS THE CROW FLIES

    Leaving the fields of the countryside for the city, it is the birds that tell you when the invisible boundary has been crossed. There are usually signs along the roads bolted to steel poles but the birds know better. In the country, birds sing long arias to the day, to cornstalks making the slow green…

    Lou Faber

  • GENSHA’S BLANK PAPER 鐵笛倒吹 四十九

    If you ask me to write on paper all that I know of zen I will hand to you three empty sheets. Study them carefully for upon them the Dharma waits to be seen. I will draw you a circle almost complete a bounded space having neither inside nor outside, another gateless gate. A reflection…

    Lou Faber

  • ERGO COGITO

    She says she is certain she exists, much as she is certain he exists as well. He says, she thinks she exists, thinks he does as well.                                                  Descartes, he says, was…

    Lou Faber