an old writer and his words

  • FERRYMAN

    He comes to me in the dead hour of night the old shriveled man poling his poor ferry across the river of my dreams. He comes when the moon has fled and the stars fall mute and he beckons me holding out the copper coins stating his fare. He comes to me, beckoning, and for…

    Lou Faber

  • ABIDING

    Do not look behind you to see if the Emperor is following, for if he is, he will not see you. If he asks nothing, tell him that there is no truth, that everything is true. He has no teacher and looks at each passing person to find one. You should not be worried because…

    Lou Faber

  • PRACTICING NOTHING

    We assume our seats, listen for the bell and then do nothing. Doing nothing is far more difficult that doing something. Doing nothing is something that takes great practice. You can practice doing something, but eventually, with sufficient practice, you may master that something. You never master doing nothing, for nothing is infinitely broad, something…

    Lou Faber

  • KANSAI

    I droplets torn from cloud bed cling to edges of windows wanting to grasp, torn free by wind they are pulled clawing backward. II over Osaka pillars of light rise up through holes in the cloudbank, it is gray rain puddling on tarmac built into the bay. III container ships draw fading wake lines on a…

    Lou Faber

  • FEAR

    The old monk asked the young man why he seemed so worried. “Because, sensei, you are old and will die soon!” “Why does that worry you?” “Because, like everyone, I fear death.” “Not everyone, certainly, I do not fear death.” “How can you not fear death?” “There is nothing to fear, I fear life.” “Why…

    Lou Faber

  • 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