an old writer and his words

  • PRAYER

    We bow our headsand utter wordsnot to the cicadaspeaking througha spring nightor the beetlecrawling slowlyacross the leafsearching for the edge.We bid the crowsilent, the cat mewlinghis hunger and lustto crawl under a porchawaiting morning,the child to sleep.The stream flowsslowly by, carryinga blade of grassand the early fallen leaf. Published in The Raven’s Perch (August 3,…

    Lou Faber

  • NATURE REMINDS

    Last night, all the romanticcomedies worth watchingon Amazon and Netflix havingalready been seen, many twice we had no choice but to optfor a coming of age tale on Netflixaccompanied by the mellifluoustones of Sir David Attenborough. In my dreams last night there wasa debate between the Gentooand Emperor Penguins as to whichwas the more enrapturing,…

    Lou Faber

  • HEAVEN, ONLY SLIGHTLY OUT OF REACH

    God is fixed in the firmamentseen as puppet master by somepatrician uncle, small childendlessly shifting blocksin new, transitory universes.All things recede from a point,have since the creationand that point, dimensionlessis God, vast and infinite.It swings lazily, back, fortha needle in its cusp tracinglines in the bed of sandin constant motion as weand earth, and all…

    Lou Faber

  • CENTER SEAT

    My friends have often wondered aloudwhy I claim to be most creative whenI am stuck on an airplane for hours. I have told them that the solitude,the lack of It is an interesting quirkof the internet, that birthand death are disconnected. Seeking out those born todayI found a long list, the dinosauramong which is Judy…

    Lou Faber

  • FREEZE FRAME

    When you see a photograph of a dropof water hitting a still pond, you realizethat it is nothing at all like what you see. The photo freezes time, and that is whywe are so taken, for we want nothing morethan to slow or stop that unerring arrow for we know all too well where its…

    Lou Faber

  • PARENTHOOD

    Two headstonesName, rank, branchof service, dates. One New Jersey, oneVirginia, both Bittleneither certain. An email fromanother Bittle, neverknew my father but his wasWilliam, and inthat moment, James Owen becamea father yet againand I complete. And later stilla single picturehe in the back row and the mirroragrees that weare truly family.

    Lou Faber

  • ENSO WHAT

    Today I again took up the brush,carefully mixed the sumi-e inkand with hand poised over a sheetof anticipating rice paper waited, knowing that the moment for a strokewas imminent but not yet at hand,and I dare not force it for brushpainting is a practice that cannot be compelled, a gentle mergerof idea, brush, ink and…

    Lou Faber

  • UNCLE

    My uncle writes his journalin cramped Yiddish, Englishwill not do, it lacks the wordshe says, to describe his world. He describes the flavorof the capon left to stewon the stove, the sweet tasteof carrots and prunes. He carefully notes the thumbof the butcher sliding ontothe back of the scale, applyingjust a dollar of pressure. He…

    Lou Faber

  • TICK TICK TICK

    He awoke this morning to discover his mortality. This was a concept he had never beforeconsidered, it had never crossed his mind. He had never been to a funeral, came froma small family, an only child, his parents and grandparents still living, not that heever saw them, he valued his solitude. But this morning, while…

    Lou Faber

  • Fuketsu’s Speech and Silence 無門關 二十四

    Inward but not outwarda broken stick Outward but no inwarda broken stick A partridge singsin silenceflowers bloomat midnight Fuketsu smiles knowingly. A reflection on case 24 of the Mumonkan (Gateless Gate)

    Lou Faber