an old writer and his words

  • ENKAN’S RHINOCEROS-HORN FAN

    If your teacher asksyou to bring him allof the Dharma you have learnedwhat will you bring him?If you begin to recitewhat you knowof the sutrashe will turn awayand cover his ears.If you sitnext to him in silencehe will smile. A reflection on Case 25 of the Book of Equanimity, 従容錄, Shōyōroku

    Lou Faber

  • AT THE CAFE

    We sit acrossfrom each otherseparated bythe small tablethat teeters,her cappuccinolicking at the rim.My toes danceagainst hersand she looks upquizzically.I smile and reachfor her handtouching her fingersfeeling the fine silverof the rings on each.She pulls her handback and looksinto the richbrown sheen.I stare out the windowat the odd carlookingfor a spacein the overfull lot,then pullingback ontothe…

    Lou Faber

  • POSER

    For unknown reasons Iwas told I was going tosit for a portrait by a wellknown local artist. It was a gift, so I hadlittle choice but to accept,and so I sat on a chairfrozen in place. I asked how long itwould take and he replied“Not more than four sittingsand then I can go to work.”…

    Lou Faber

  • MY RABBI (PART 2)

    I tell him I am thinking of becominga rabbi, someone just like him,a man who saw so many throughall manner of crises, joyous events. He sits back in his unsteady chair,one he refuses to replace, this onefinally broken in, he says with thatgentle smile that melts anger, anxiety. You would do well at it, I…

    Lou Faber

  • OLD HOTEL, NARA

    Stepping into the hotel, it was like being dropped into a truly alien world. Nothing shiny, no excess of glass and marble. A simple dark wooden reception desk, a clerk in black with a white vest. A bow upon approaching. Your room is simple, no internet, a single light on a small desk. A tatami…

    Lou Faber

  • THE SAINT OF UNCOUNTED NAMES

    A desert again,always a desertand she the saintof uncounted names,her crying eases, nosmile appears for thisMadonna of the coyotes,her orange-orbed eyesshuttered against theslowly retreating sun.Once her tears wateredthe desert sands, mixedwith the blood of a Christnow long forgotten, trans-substantiated into a spiritwe formed in our image,no longer we in his.The Blessed Motherwatches, holding hope,holding space,…

    Lou Faber

  • LEILA

    At the left click of the mousemy granddaughter appearsbarely a week oldand with a right-clickshe is frozen into the hard drive.I remember sitting outsidethe Buddha Hall of Todai-Ji Templein the mid-morning August sun thesmiling at a baby waiting in her strollerfor her mother to bowto the giant golden Buddha.I recall the soft touchof the young…

    Lou Faber

  • MIRROR MIRROR

    The person I see each morninglooks vaguely familiar, perhapssomeone I once met in passing,or maybe a distant relative.But he was so much olderso he was difficult to place. I do say hello each morningbut get only a nod, a gesturein response, as if the personis mute, for he smiles backso it is not a silence…

    Lou Faber

  • SLEEVE

    I wear my hearton my sleeve, he said,so you know what I’mfeeling at any given momentand I am an open bookso you can read my thoughtswhenever you wish to do so. His smile said he wasproud of this state,and he did say it sethim apart from most people. She laughed and saidto him, “But you…

    Lou Faber

  • FIVE HAIKU

    The dawn cedes slowlyto the impinging sunlightbirds greet the new day The great egret liftsher wings embracing the cloudthe winter sun smiles on the barren branchthe red-shouldered hawk awaitsher mate and the sun sandhill cranes wanderalong the shore of the lakelooking for nothing the moon is a cupwaiting for night to fill itvenus sits empty

    Lou Faber