an old writer and his words

  • I WANT TO BELIEVE

    I want to believethat I am a man of words,to think you would agree,for words inundate my world. In my home I live among wordssome mine, mostly those of others. They follow me like a shadowat noon, the sunalways on my face. I want to know what theywant from me but theydo not answer or…

    Lou Faber

  • OR

    I can safely say I don’t miss the dayswhen they wheeled you into the operating room,smiling you assumed behind the masks,as you shift from gurney to table, your open gownflapping about like some wind driven flag.You would lie there staring up at the massive lightsthankfully were turned on, blinding you, watchedas they placed the mask…

    Lou Faber

  • KYOSEI’S BUDDHADHARMA 正法眼蔵 三十九

    If you ask whenis the best timeto seek wisdom Iwill tell youat the stroke of midnightand I will walkon a lighter left foot.If you ask the next daywhen is the best timeto seek wisdomI will tell youat highest noonand I will walkon a lighter right foot. A reflection on Case 39 of Dogen’s Shoboganzo Koans…

    Lou Faber

  • HOME, NIGHT

    Living in a bamboo grove, she said,is very much like living in an old house. Look up at noon, into the canopyand imagine you see rays of lightpiercing the ill-thatched roof. Listen to the growling winds of autumnand hear the ghosts of the old housemaking their way up creaking stairs. And when you truly find…

    Lou Faber