an old writer and his words

  • SENBAZURU

    For a reason I can no longer recallI began folding origami craneswith the intention of completinga senbazuru, 1000 cranes strungto hang somewhere although I knowI had no idea then where that might be.It was after reading how a youngJapanese girl folded 1000 cranes,in a hope for peace after Hiroshimawas devastated by our new bomb.I did…

    Lou Faber

  • UNFOLDING

    Wake into the morning’s lightunsure of how you arrived in this moment,of what this day may promise,of how it will unfurl before you, perhapslike a work of art of a dementedorigami unfolding randomly, everythingor nothing at all, no way of knowing.This could be a delusion, could bethe dregs of a dream that night left behind,could…

    Lou Faber

  • CRANING

    I wait patiently for the wingsto move, as though attachedto a butterfly slowly emergingfrom her too brief chrysalis home.I want to feel the air shiftever so gently as shelifts into a cloudless sky.I want to marvel atthe grace she showsswooping overhead,then alighting once again.But I am no God,no origami masterand so my cranes sitwith their…

    Lou Faber

  • GOOD LUCK WITH THAT

    The fortune cookies of my childhoodwere far more interesting, or somy memory would have it.The cookies offered wisdomof the East, or so it seemedto a 10-year-old, but perhapsit was the same mumbo-jumboin the bulk print today, nowthat the cookies, which oncetasted good, unlike today’sorigami cardboard, werefolded by hand, and therewere no lotteries then, sothere was…

    Lou Faber

  • SENBAZURU

    10,000 origami cranesfloated down over Tokyoeach bearing the soul of one gone in nature’s recent fury.Each crane cried freelythe tears flowing into the Sumidaforming a wave that washesback to the sea, replenishing its loss.We, too, shed our tearsand look skywardsad in the knowledgethat with each passing daystill more craneswill fill the skymore tears seep backto…

    Lou Faber

  • ENFOLDING

    As a child I was quite adept folding sheets of newspaper into paper hats and paper boats. The boats immediately took on water, and sank like the sodden masses I made them to be, but I could wear the hats for hours, until my mother had to scrub my forehead to get off the printer’s…

    Lou Faber

  • TAKING FLIGHT

    Origami cranes lumber into flight and lift into the sky over the small, back street Temple somewhere on the periphery of Shinjuku. They know their flight will be only temporary, that their wings will grow quickly tired, that the rustling sound of two thousand wings will soon fall silent as the breeze bids them a…

    Lou Faber

  • TRIPTYCH

    Origami cranes take to the sky, devour clouds denying winter. Zebra butterflies hover, dance on rays of light never tomorrow The pond imagines itself one day a great lake its shore dreams of spring.

    Lou Faber

  • A FLOCK

    The cranes slowly gather one upon another upon still another, wings unfurled, invoking senbazuru, each one of a whole, each threatening to fly off in ten directions, and none. Still others, sit around, patiently awaiting completion of their senbazuru, uncertain of, uncaring for, its arrival.

    Lou Faber

  • SENBAZURU

    A thousand cranes take flight hanging from the ceiling under the watchful eye the old Japanese man framed on my wall and the Buddha staring down from my dresser.

    Lou Faber