an old writer and his words

  • HOLDING ON

    There comes that one moment for each who liveswhen he steps out onto the silent stage,speaks such of the lines as he recalls, givesa half-intended bow, and in his rage curses his lost youth like over-aged wine,that is now a shadow of its promiseand he knows that somehow this is a signnot of what he…

    Lou Faber

  • TRIPTYCH

    A triptych hangs in the gallery of memory. Admission is by invitation only. The first panel is a time fogged mirror into which I stare. The adopted image hides behind the tarnished silver. My adopted mother’s voice is heard from a hidden speaker: “You were named after my father.” I want to tape his picture…

    Lou Faber

  • BODHIDHARMA’S VAST AND VOID

    You want holy teachingsboiled down, synthesizeddigestible in bites so dine on the holesnothing, emptinessis sustenanceenough look at me, at a windowas you do a mirrorno knowing,a familiar facebut whose the face will departyours or hisyou will awakento endless absence learn nothingnessoverflowing void A reflection on Case 1 of the Hekiganroku (Blue Cliff Record)

    Lou Faber

  • UMMON’S THREE DAYS 鐵笛倒吹 六十八

    What were you doingthree days agoand what will you dothree days from now.Are you the same person nowas you were, will be? While your face in the mirrorKoanseems much the sameeach day you die a biteach day you are reborn.A thousand daysa thousand yearsa passing moment,how do they differ? A reflection on Case 68 of…

    Lou Faber

  • NANGAKU’s MIRROR CAST AS BUDDHA IMAGE

    A wealthy man mayspend many lifetimeslooking in endless shopsfor a mirror castas a Buddha image.The poor man peers into a still pondand sees the entire universe. A reflection on Case 116 of the Shobogenzo (Dogen’s True Dharma Eye)

    Lou Faber

  • BOKUSHU’S BLOCKHEAD 鐵笛倒吹 語十語

    Seeing your teacher on the roadif he says to youHonorable Sir, what do you do?You may turn, bow, and act the foolor pass, eyes avertedwithout acknowledgement, silentequally the fool. Speak in silence,face, bow without movinggreet him as you do yourselfin the morning mirrorand once past, offer gasshoand the fool is left on the pathdragging your…

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE WALL

    Each morning, once I have completedthe often unpleasant task of draggingmyself from the womb of blankets, I makemy appearance in front of the mirror. I stare closely into it, and am unsurprisedto find it returning my stare,and on every occasion, I noticethat the mirror has once againchosen to wear the same clothes as I,albeit not…

    Lou Faber

  • MIRROR IMAGE

    Each morning when I lookinto the mirror I imagineI see me, but of course thatis impossible, for in that momentonly the mirror sees meand I see the mirror. How deluded I must beto assume that I look at alllike the mirror, but it is,I know, just such delusionsthat enable my sense of self,and that is…

    Lou Faber

  • PARENTHOOD

    Two headstonesName, rank, branchof service, dates. One New Jersey, oneVirginia, both Bittleneither certain. An email fromanother Bittle, neverknew my father but his wasWilliam, and inthat moment, James Owen becamea father yet againand I complete. And later stilla single picturehe in the back row and the mirroragrees that weare truly family.

    Lou Faber

  • THE FUTURE HOLDS

    It should be more of a surprise,on this day that you turn ninetybut the mirror, as you see it,has you looking as you did twentytwo years earlier, and twentybefore that, unchanging in anymeaningful way, yet thosearound you laugh when youtell them what you believe. Not a day over sixty-eightyou say, and time to go offand…

    Lou Faber