an old writer and his words

  • DUSK

    As the afternoon fades, the gray of the sky deepens, the crows gather in the highest branches of the older trees, until the leafless branches seems suddenly burdened with great black leaves. As the already waning light fades they take up their hymns to the passing day, approaching night, and we wait patiently amid the cacophony…

    Lou Faber

  • SIGNS OF AGE

    1. I wrote a note to remind me to remind you of that thing you didn’t want to forget, but I can’t remember where I put it. Have you seen it? 2. I am rapidly approaching that point when counting black hairs on my head is easier then counting years. 3. This year I finally…

    Lou Faber

  • MUSHOTOKU

    We spend far too much time clinging to what was as the flames fade, and far too little time feeding the fire and grasping what can be, what is.

    Lou Faber

  • TWO THOUGHTS

      Stare at a still pond, hear the birds “Beedu, Beedu,” now truly listen. . .   Tomorrow is gone, yesterday has disappeared. What moment is this?

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT, SHE ASKS, DOES A FEATHER SOUND LIKE?

    echo of Galileo’s ball in speeding flight once cast off the tower, the cascade of butterfly wings in mid migration, and universes collapsing, and the sound of everything the moment before there was time.

    Lou Faber

  • RIDE

    There is a man standing at a bus stop. He waits at this bus stop each day, regardless of the weather. He is waiting patiently for a bus that will not come, the bus line was discontinued many months ago. He has a cast on his leg, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. It…

    Lou Faber

  • ESCAPE PLAN

    Open the door quickly for you may find a wonderland: a bottled djinn waiting for your wish, a mangy dog looking for scraps his fur wet and matted, head down. Open the door quickly – it may be the entrance to a gallery or another door, and another until you are outside and must open…

    Lou Faber

  • FADING DREAMS

    Autumn perches on the thin edge of Winter a breeze will blow it into the eternal freeze. The burning bush is aflame, threatening to consume itself for a final time. The earthworm peers at the ashen sky knowing this day brings the world to an end. A squirrel drags a final nut into hiding his…

    Lou Faber

  • HOPI DREAMING

    Look to the East stare at the sky and feel the winds carry away the snow which paints our lands and shrouds our ancestors in a mantle of white. Look to the South see the waters of the river flowing gently to the horizon bringer of the fish spirits, its azure waters washing away to…

    Lou Faber

  • AT THE BORDER

    Out at the edge of the universe, time has no beginning and stretches endlessly, as a stone dropped, its ripples spreading outward across a shoreless lake. There is no time here at the margin, no space consumed by all space. I would touch the edge and press it outward disrupting balance until it all draws…

    Lou Faber