an old writer and his words

  • MEMORIAL

    This woman approaches the stone, carefully places sake and cherry blossoms and leans a sotoba against it, before bowing and walking away. It is what you do for a son, she says, looking at the bibbed Jizo hoping she can protect the child who lies beneath. That woman approaches the headstone, gently places the flowers and leans…

    Lou Faber

  • TOKYO

    Walking the grounds of Senso-ji Temple, I look among the statues, half expecting Buddha or Kannon Bosatsu to appear, but only a pigeon answers my expectations. Lighting a joss bundle and placing it into the burner I imagine for a moment that I am zainichi, but the giggles of a flock of uniformed schoolgirls reminds me cruelly…

    Lou Faber

  • COMPASSION

    Kannon, have compassion for us, as if you could do otherwise. We don’t seek wisdom, that’s out of your department. We all seek enlightenment as if it is some neon sign around the next bend in the path. We are well-suited for rushing to unknown destinations. We would offer you prayers, but we have forgotten…

    Lou Faber

  • AKEDA

    My father never walked me up a hill, never asked two servants to wait below, never bid me be strong, never asked me to have faith in the Lord, never raised the blade only to see a ram in a thicket. My father never did any of these things and so I have no special…

    Lou Faber

  • NATURE’S VACUUM

    Nature abhors a vacuum a fact not lost on God, who spent considerable time filling voids and creating vessels, pots  and the odd variety of containers, some quite will suited to their contents and others, man as a shining example, illogical, and worse still, leaky so that once packed with thought and emotion it spends…

    Lou Faber

  • BOUNDARY

    What is on the other side of this wall that is just too tall to peer over? No one seems to know, though many have surmised it is a completely different world looking little or nothing like the one we inhabit. Last week a young man picked up a ginkgo leaf and said “ahah, it…

    Lou Faber

  • KNOWING

    She wants to know if I could be an animal which would I choose. Part of me wants to answer panther – sleek, black, catlike eyes glowing in the night – but never coyote, crawling out of the hills in search of rabbits darting through the sage, never the trickster. I am an animal, I…

    Lou Faber

  • HEAVEN

    Joseph said he once met an angel on the bullet train between Osaka and Tokyo. I asked him if her wings were feathered, he said “no, it was her smile” and it was gossamer. Joseph said they spoke only briefly, she through long black hair, in Japanese, he in his only language, English. She was…

    Lou Faber

  • THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE AT NARA

    On the steps of the Temple the unexpected morning snow which cast a threadbare blanket over the gates and lanterns recedes slowly like a supplicant whose prayers have been offered. The candle flames shiver in the strong February wind while the Buddha sits, implacable. In the park below a dragon kite takes the wind and…

    Lou Faber

  • STREETCORNER PROPHESY

    He stands on the corner, rocking back and forth. He has been here every day for as long as most can remember. He hasn’t bathed in some time, his clothes, once white are indeterminate shades of beige. Everything is worn thin. His beard has grown long, shaggy. His hair seems electric on his head. He…

    Lou Faber