an old writer and his words

  • THE LAKE

    Sitting out in the middle of the large lake is a very small island. It’s more of a large rock just sticking out of the water, but everyone calls it an island. Moss grows all over the exposed part so you don’t know it’s all stone unless you row out to it, which no one…

    Lou Faber

  • A MEDITATION

    The cat curls on the mat and you assume she is not practicing zazen, that is just something cats are prone to do. Hakuin Ekaku only ascribed such nature to dogs, but perhaps true Buddha nature is a secret held close by our felines.

    Lou Faber

  • AS THE CROW FLIES

    Leaving the fields of the countryside for the city, it is the birds that tell you when the invisible boundary has been crossed. There are usually signs along the roads bolted to steel poles but the birds know better. In the country, birds sing long arias to the day, to cornstalks making the slow green…

    Lou Faber

  • ARDEIDAE MORNING

    He stands still staring at the ever changing surface of the pond, which he knows holds infinite possibility that he does not wish to disturb, lest the moment be forever lost. Nothing else matters to him as he calmly, and ever so slowly, lifts his leg in tree pose, and reaches out with unfurled wings…

    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

  • AN OFF YEAR

    The was a winter, once, where even in the north the snow refused to fall, ice rejected jamming the culverts, and the sky stared down in amazement. That was the year trees would not bud and flowers fled deeper into the sweetness of the earth, grass sighed and lay indolent. It was a year my…

    Lou Faber

  • MORNING, ATTENDANT

    Morning would find him sitting calmly, cross-legged, under the apple tree that sat on the edge of the park, staring up at a small branch and carefully watching the bud begin to open, ignoring all who passed. Morning would find him sitting calmly, cross-legged, under the apple tree watching the fragile blossom open, staring at…

    Lou Faber

  • MUGO’S FANCIES 鐵笛倒吹 語十九

    If you stand on the shore of a still pond and toss a stone into its middle the ripples will spread slowly until the water laps your toes. If you stand on the shore of a still pond and toss a ring of the finest gold into the middle, the ripples will spread slowly until…

    Lou Faber

  • ESCAPE PLAN

    Open the door quickly for you may find a wonderland: a bottled djinn waiting for your wish, a mangy dog looking for scraps his fur wet and matted, head down. Open the door quickly – it may be the entrance to a gallery or another door, and another until you are outside and must open…

    Lou Faber

  • THOUGHT HARBOR

    I harbored the thought one day becoming a monk, and not only because saffron robes would be well within my usual color choices. I knew it was a pipe dream, I love, too deeply, to disavow, life and I’m sure my past lives wouldn’t take all that long to catch up with me, karma can…

    Lou Faber