an old writer and his words

  • THE FAR SHORE

    The old monkstanding alongsidethe ever still pondpicks up a pebbleand tosses itinto the pond.The ripplesspread outever wideras the Buddhaon the far shoresimply smiles.

    Lou Faber

  • GOKOKU’S THREE SHAMES

    When you throw a pebbleinto a still pondwhat is it you look for?If you say the ripplesthe pebble has madeI will say there is no pebble.If you point to the pebbleon the bottom of the pondI will say there are no ripples.If you point to the skyyou will have found the way. A reflection on…

    Lou Faber

  • REAR VIEW MIND

    I spent too much time lookingbackward, looking into the past,looking into the mirrorto frame a dream historyof my desires and fears.He called one morning, lefta message, “Mother died,more details will follow.”A mother his by birth,mine by legal act.I should have felt stunnedanger, I said quietly to myselfhe’s cocky, has issues, and wentabout momentary mourning.That is…

    Lou Faber

  • REFLECTIONS

    An elk stands at the edgeof a placid mountain lakeand sees only the cloudsof an approaching winter.A black bear leans overthe mirrored surface of the lakeand sees only the fishthat will soon be his repast.The young man drapedin saffron robes lookscalmly into the water and seesa pebble, the spirit of his ancestors.I look carefully into…

    Lou Faber

  • REFLECTIONS

    An elk stands at the edge of a placid mountain lake and sees only the clouds of an approaching winter. A black bear leans over the mirrored surface of the lake and sees only the fish that will soon be his repast. The young man draped in saffron robes looks calmly into the water and…

    Lou Faber

  • TIPPING THE WATER BOTTLE 無門關 四十

    These few words gathered neatly on a scrap of simple paper, what do you call it? Answer carefully for you response may carry the keys to the doors of Mount Tai-i. Better still, upend the water bottle, watch the ink and water form a gentle pool into which no pebble drops. A reflelction on case…

    Lou Faber

  • SEASONINGS (HAIKU)

      above only sky beneath only dark gray clouds the sun is content a mountain of clouds rises from white tufted bed the earth is watered in winter’s icy chill ripples from autumn’s pebble await the spring sun the leafless ginkgo taunts the first snow of winter with the dream of spring

    Lou Faber

  • ALONG THE WAY

      There are those desperately searching, who stumble along the way, tripping over the dharma gems lying in their path. Others proceed slowly, pausing to examine each pebble, each twig uncertain if it, just possibly, was the key to enlightenment. I wander along, going nowhere, knowing that is where the path must lead, and I…

    Lou Faber

  • ALONG THE MIDDLE WAY

    Each day he stops briefly in the small park along the path, and picks up a pebble which he tucks in the coin pocket of his jeans. There it rests until he comes the pond where he sits on the shore staring out into the heart of the water. He pulls the pebble and tosses…

    Lou Faber

  • PEBBLE

    In this moment there is and can be no other. And when it is gone it never existed much as the next will never exist. So it is with us, a reflection of the ripple of the long sunk stone now nestling the bottom of the pond.  

    Lou Faber