an old writer and his words

  • MESA

    This nightin cold moonlightearth rises upclouds float downghosts walk the margin.Old ones singnow shall be thenolder ones still singthen shall be onceto wolf and coyote.In this season of north windssun’s heat barrenspirits rise updreams descendman lies interspersed.Women singwe are bearersmen singwe are sowers. First appeared in Dipity, Vol. 3, April 2023

    Lou Faber

  • HAVOC

    They took up shovels,pickaxes, bare fingersto pry up the seedlings,the saplings just takingroot and the seedsjust planted still wateredby the sweat and tearsof those who lovinglytilled the brittle soil. They offered nothingin return, barren groundwhere only anger grew,fertilized by fear, byby greed, by blindness. Will we sit by and watchas promises wither underan ever stronger,…

    Lou Faber

  • YOU THERE

    We dance between wantingto know what is out there,and fearing that we are notany longer unique, just onemore in an endless stream. And then we have to wonderif the others, such as they are,wonder what is out there,and fear that they are notany longer unique, just onemore in an endless stream. Has it always been…

    Lou Faber

  • UNDERTAKER

    Two turkey vulturessit on the branchesof a barrenwetland tree,looking down. We stare at them,not wantingto think aboutwhat they stare at,for we understandturkey vultures. They are soonchased off byboat-tailed grackleswho we thankfor releasing usfrom the funeral.

    Lou Faber

  • HEART OF DHARMA

    A single snowy egret sitson the lowest branch of a longbarren tree, where hours from nowa thousand birds will arrivefor still another evening and night. He stares at me as I am mindfullyvacuuming, watching carefully. I pause and ask if by chance heis a Buddha and he lifts his long neckand peers around in all…

    Lou Faber

  • BUDDHA NATURE

    A singe egret sits calmly on the lowest branch of a long barren tree, where hours from now a thousand birds will arrive for still another evening and night. He stares at me as I am mindfully vacuuming, watching carefully. I pause and ask if by chance he is a Buddha and he lifts his…

    Lou Faber

  • SEASON OF OUR CONTENT

    It is Spring and I press my ear to still barren soil to hear the hypnotic thrum of sap reaching slowly skyward engine straining against gravity earthworms beginning their tunneling, marshaling armies for an exodus through ever night soil. I listen to the bud its velour face unfolding before the stillborn sky, a robin, breast…

    Lou Faber

  • JIZO PLANTS THE FIELD

    If you truly want to walk in the footsteps of the Buddha stand perfectly still and unmoving. If you truly want to comprehend the whole of the Dharma put down all of your books and scrolls, roll up your sleeves and plant the barren fields, clearing away rocks and stones. If you want to taste…

    Lou Faber

  • THREE VIEWS OF WINTER (HAIKU)

    cat curls by the fire dreaming of summer flowers snow falls in laughter now barren branches of the locust tree shiver in the midnight breeze a raging sun sets as cranes raise wings in farewell winter awakens

    Lou Faber