an old writer and his words

  • NIGHT ZAZEN

    The last inkin bell tone dies on the fading whisper of incense. Here and not here now and still now silence and Zen. The distant mountain kisses the moon’s curled lips.

    Lou Faber

  • A MEDITATION

    The true sound of the inkin bell can be heard in the instant before the striker and the bell meet. It is this purest of tones in which all of Buddha’s teachings are laid open for your inspection, if only you are willing to close your eyes and finally see.

    Lou Faber

  • NARA

    The clouds shimmer in echo of the peel of the great temple bell. Hearing the chorus of monks, a small red maple sheds a leaf. It is the butterfly whose wings gavotte to the inkin bell which causes waves to lap the shore of a distant sea.

    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