an old writer and his words

  • COMPARISONS

    It was Henry Miller who said that the principal difference between a sage and a preacher is one thing: gaiety, and I suppose the same could be said of the difference between the monk and the wealthy man. It was in a small temple nestled in a courtyard of three office towers in the heart of…

    Lou Faber

  • DHAMMAPADA

    A foolish man sits at the edge of the pond, his feet perfectly still in the water. He stares into the mirrored surface and sees a fool, smiles as a ginkgo leaf floats like a sail on a morning breeze onto the pool, ripples radiate out, touching his toes and he smiles, and the fool…

    Lou Faber

  • A SMALL GARDEN (HAIKU)

    sitting, time biding leaf floats down from branch trampled under foot   road salt crusts over etched into a chrome bumper the heron returns   pine needles a bed for the deer and the hunter tall pines cry leaden tears   tangled broken branch dangling from a barren oak awaiting spring rain   giant cranes…

    Lou Faber

  • SEARCH

    The old, rotund monk is his gray robes stood outside Osaka Station gently swinging his small bell, chanting . A child of five tugged on his mother’s sleeve as she pulled him toward the subway. “Is he the Buddha” the boy asks, pulling back “No,” she said, “he is not though he searches each day…

    Lou Faber

  • LETTING GO

    Dawn is announced by the sound of the bell, its echo chasing off the ghost of night leaving but whispers of what he cannot tell. Looking inward the mind seeks to rebel, to vanquish the simple call of the light. Dawn is announced by the sound of the bell and the peace of dreams shattered…

    Lou Faber

  • ONE ROW OVER, TWO LIVES BACK

    I am somewhere southwest of Alaska, four hours outside Narita, and I notice him, three seats over and a row behind, a middle seat, yet the Buddha doesn’t seem to mind. He sits calmly sipping his Chivas and rubbing his round belly, his legs tucked neatly, lotus. He smiles at me, lifting his glass, “One…

    Lou Faber

  • USER INTERFACE

    U:        Cope I:          How? U:        Relax I:          Can’t U:        Why not? I:          No time U:        Make time I:          Takes too long U:        Better idea? I:          None! U:        Tried? I:          Can’t U:        Why not? I:          No time U:        What then? I:          No idea U:        Can’t help I:          Why not? U:        Tried I:          How? U:       …

    Lou Faber

  • THREE CONVERSATIONS WITH BUDDHA

    I   How do you make an axe handle if you have no axe? Sharpen your mind.   II   How do you hear a tree fall in the forest if you are in the city? Turn a deaf ear.   III   How do you find the path to enlightenment if you have no…

    Lou Faber

  • TIME

    He stopped believing in time. It served no purpose for him, other than allowing others to chastise him for being late. He knew he operated under the laws of gravity, it was a burden he accepted, if begrudgingly. He understood his limitations, tested their margins, but allowed that he had finite power over them. But…

    Lou Faber

  • BUDDHA IN WALES

    Sitting cross legged I dance between mindfulness and Samadhi, slipping the unmarked boundary until engulfed by the void. Buddha crawls into my lap an utter stillness until she touches my cheek with sand paper tongue and kneads my chest with rhythmic paws. I run my fingers down her spine. We purr, wedded in perfect enlightenment.

    Lou Faber