an old writer and his words

  • LAUGHTER

    Each night the gallinules begintheir laughter, passing it from oneto another until you are no longer certainjust how many of them there are, butyou want to know just what comedythey are watching and put it on your list.But they are interrupted by the shadowsand the cry of the night Heronsdeparting for another night of huntingannouncing…

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE WING

    From watching them in flightI know that great egrets flywith their hinge neck folded inwhile Sandhill cranes extend theirs. By listening carefully, I knowthe cry of the male limpkin, his lowerthan his female partner, whilethe cry of the hawk only creates fearin those who might be its prey, andthe male Cardinal showsinfinite patience calling outfor…

    Lou Faber

  • WORDS, WORDS, WORDS

    They can have sharp edgesthat wound on contact, some cutsso deep they leave lasting scars. They can get stuck in the throatuntil you feel you can no longerbreathe, no longer cry out for help. They can lie there, anaggregate always acretingand yet rejecting any meaning. Or they can, carefully chosenpresent great beauty, offerhope, promise freedom.…

    Lou Faber

  • WE WANT, AGAIN

    We want to cry out,but we have no words. We want to screambut all we give is silence. We want to curse the invaderbut cannot be heardover the tanks, bombsand rockets. We want to mournbut there are so manyinnocents, wheredo we begin? We want to act,but we are incapableand can offeronly silent prayer.

    Lou Faber

  • THE SAINT OF UNCOUNTED NAMES

    A desert again,always a desertand she the saintof uncounted names,her crying eases, nosmile appears for thisMadonna of the coyotes,her orange-orbed eyesshuttered against theslowly retreating sun.Once her tears wateredthe desert sands, mixedwith the blood of a Christnow long forgotten, trans-substantiated into a spiritwe formed in our image,no longer we in his.The Blessed Motherwatches, holding hope,holding space,…

    Lou Faber

  • UNANSWERED

    There are so many questions for which I have never gotten an answer. What, for instance, does one who is lactose intolerant cry over? If the rest is history, can’t we just stop now and read it later? And if every cloud has that silver lining, it has been well seeded, so why isn’t it…

    Lou Faber

  • DIFFERENT TODAY

    The air we breathe is different today,and we inhale more deeplywith the energy of our youth. The tears we cry today are notsolely tears of loss and sorrow,but also of promise and hope. The wine that we drink todaywill be the same as before, butnow sweeter on the tongue. The sleep that we sleep tonightwill…

    Lou Faber

  • A DIFFERENT WORLD

    In a different world, I would write you stories, poems, that would bring a tear to your eye, that would make you laugh even when your mood would deny joy, that would bring freedom to some and loosen the shackles on many, that would reflect peace, that would lighten your burden, that would heal, if…

    Lou Faber