an old writer and his words

  • FINAL MOMENT

    You would think that thosewith an abiding faith in an afterlifewould approach the transitionto death without fear, merely a stepinto a promising, promised unknown.And perhaps some do take this approachbut many, it seems, when the abyss opensbefore them and there is no going backexpress the moment of fear, of terror,thoughts reserved to the nonbelievers.Of course…

    Lou Faber

  • THE NATURAL KEY TO HEAVEN

    The hawk sits on a branchlooking up at the sky, knowingthis is perfection, lifting upchasing a cloud, floating lazily. The butterfly flits from plantto plant, tasting the fruitsthat nature has given her,perfection in a single moment. The cat sleeps on a rockerthe breeze rustling her coat,until waking for dinnerwhich appears at her request. We spend…

    Lou Faber

  • HILLEL AT THE GOLDEN DRAGON

    I am honored that this poem was just published in the Fall/Winter Issue of the  Atlanta Review, I had dinner the other night with Rav Hillel in a small Chinese place just off Mott Street. I asked him what it was like in the afterlife, after all the years. It gets a bit boring, he…

    Lou Faber

  • THE QUESTION

    If my mother was here she would ask me what I have to say for myself. Just this once, I would remain silent, for there is nothing that needs saying and she would be certain that if there were she should be the one to say it, but silence would drive her mad. So perhaps…

    Lou Faber

  • ASHES TO DUST

    The dolphin is born of the water, the man born of the fire and of the earth. The dolphin swims unrestrained, the man chooses to live in the city of Afterlife, focussed on impending rebirth. The dolphin stares up in wonder at the amassing clouds, the man curses the sky shielding him from heaven. The dolphin…

    Lou Faber