an old writer and his words

  • BEAUTY

    The rose no more knowsits own beautythan the chrysanthemumdoes its scent.The birds will carry the seeds,the bees will pollinate the flowersbut it is left to usto recognize the abject beautynature willingly unfoldsbefore us, it is ourEden, small momentsof perfection which weso often ignore, which weunthinkingly lay waste to,and we who must learnto mourn what we…

    Lou Faber

  • WRITING

    I have a Chinese friendwho says I should write poemsabout pomegranates and chrysanthemums.A Japanese business acquaintance sayspoems should be populated by sakura and Lotus.I tend to think of their advicein the deadest days of winterwhen snow presses against the houseas if seeking its faint warmth.As I thinly sliced the tender shootsof bamboo and dampen the…

    Lou Faber

  • YAKUSAN’S DISCOURSE

    When the master takes his seatwhat do you expect of him?Do you watch his postureor how his hands are set.Do you stare at his lipsand what do you hearwhen they move, but no soundcomes from his throat.Listen carefully, for herethe dharma unfoldslike the first chrysanthemum. A reflection on Case 79 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s True…

    Lou Faber

  • TRYPTICH (HAIKU

    shout Yuki Onna I have wandered from my course snow piles at my feet   gold Chrysanthemum blooms bright in the summer sun pure water of life   a pebble is plucked from the lake, ripples move in, singularity.

    Lou Faber

  • THREE VIEWS: WINTER

    the ghosts of morning cast their spell over the sun joyous winter smiles   first snow of winter white coated Buddha dreaming of chrysanthemums   each flake different a billion unique moments a Buddhist season    

    Lou Faber