an old writer and his words

  • MEDITATION

    A wise Buddhist teacher once told me that anything you do, if you do it mindfully, can be a form of meditation, and I have taken this into my practice, albeit with mixed success, but that is one reason they call it practice. Walking silently, following your breath in and out, aware of your feet,…

    Lou Faber

  • TWO HAIKU

    the morning dew smiles the rising sun stares deeply later a merger the egret stands fixed wishing he was a statue the rippling pond laughs

    Lou Faber

  • A MISTAKE IN SPEAKING

    When you speak the words of the Buddha you are lost. Light is everywhere in silence but the tongue must hide in the dark of the mouth. Buddha’s words are flowers unfolding in the dawn by the side of the still pond, the eyes hear the song and respond in silent chorus. A reflection on…

    Lou Faber

  • A MISTAKE IN SPEAKING 無門關 三十九

    When you speak the words of the Buddha you are lost. Light is everywhere in silence but the tongue must hide in the dark of the mouth. Buddha’s words are flowers unfolding in the dawn by the side of the still pond, the eyes hear the song and respond in silent chorus. A reflection on…

    Lou Faber

  • STARING

    A crane stands placidly staring through the window as we earnestly attempt to imitate him, hoping he will honor the effort if not the result. The master is graceful and we are far less so, and out of the corner of my eye I see on the crane what could be a smile, or as…

    Lou Faber

  • A Mistake in Speaking 無門關 三十九

    When you speak the words of the Buddha you are lost. Light is everywhere in silence but the tongue must hide in the dark of the mouth. Buddha’s words are flowers unfolding in the dawn by the side of the still pond, the eyes hear the song and respond in silent chorus. A reflection on…

    Lou Faber

  • GYOZAN SITS

    To a parched man sitting along the roadside a picture of the ocean will provide him nothing to quench his thirst and even if he jumps in the salt will lead to his imminent death. But give him the idea of a pond fed by a pure stream and he will be a content salmon…

    Lou Faber

  • MISTAKE IN SPEAKING 無門關 三十九

    When you speak the words of the Buddha you are lost. Light is everywhere in silence but the tongue must hide in the dark of the mouth. Buddha’s words are flowers unfolding in the dawn by the side of the still pond, the eyes hear the song and respond in silent chorus. A reflection on…

    Lou Faber

  • THIN ICE

    When we were much younger we would meet by the edge of the pond each day after winter’s first taste and pry rocks from the bank with frozen fingers, one the size of a fist, others even larger. We would carefully aim and in a crystal parabola watch as they hit the frozen surface, one…

    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