an old writer and his words

  • ON THE MESA

    I sit outside, on the mesa, having watched the mauve, fuchsia and coral sky finally concede to night. The two orange orbs sit twenty yards away, staring back and in this moment coyote and I have known each other for moments, for generations, and we are content. Coyote tells me he was once an elder living…

    Lou Faber

  • SENSING NIGHT

    “Turn on the light so I can hear you,” she says, and I reach for the switch across the room. “Please whisper,” I respond “and I may be able to see my way to the window.” I draw up the shade and in the dim glow of the night’s light I feel the braying of…

    Lou Faber

  • EMPTY SACKS WILL NEVER STAND UPRIGHT

    There are nights when the song of a single cricket can pull you away from sleep. She says that she has heard that not all Angels have wings and neither of them is sure how you would know if you met a bodhisattva. He searches the mail every day, for a letter from an unknown…

    Lou Faber

  • AUBADE

    The sun peers through the skylight, sneaks catlike up the comforter. He strokes her cheek, they are drawn together, lips touch, toes twine, hips press, fingers trace, the mattress is a world of infinite gravity. Downstairs the cat paces angrily, the coffeemaker thirsts for beans.

    Lou Faber

  • UNKNOWING

    I don’t know what                         I am, the Buddha said. I don’t know why                         my mother gave me up at birth                         or how many cousins walk                                     the streets of Glasgow                         or where I lost my first tooth I don’t know what                         became of the nickel                         or why the tooth fairy…

    Lou Faber

  • ANOTHER VISIT TO SHOBOGENZO

    YANGSHAN’S NO ENLIGHTENMENT Within nothing there are all things, within all things there is nothing. The Buddha asks in your binary electronic world how can I count on you to survive if zero is taken from you.   NANYUE POLISHES A BRICK There is no reason to sit zazen, it is worthless yet it cannot be…

    Lou Faber

  • FALLING IN LOVE, WALES

    I I fell deeply in love with her, I standing in a small jewelers shop in Bangor Wales on a November morning. In truth, cradling a small silver Celtic cross in my hands I knew then that I, taken that plunge within moments of our meeting and recognition was all that remained. II We poets stood…

    Lou Faber

  • TIME(LESS)

    He is fond of saying that time is on our side, although we both know that time does not take sides, is incapable of action, is passive in passage. It is something of which we may never have enough, but we are certain no one has more than we in this moment. He cannot imagine…

    Lou Faber

  • FINDING TEACHER

    He had been searching for . . . well it was impossible to say for how long, even he could not remember when he began the search, but he was sure it was some time ago. People would seem him searching, most would ignore him, either afraid to interrupt the search or afraid of him, probably…

    Lou Faber

  • DIALOGUE

    She says the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that on a cosmic scale space is curved and no one wants the short straw anyway. She can, of course read him, a skill she notes, reserved to women, and one of infinite frustration to…

    Lou Faber