an old writer and his words

  • ETERNAL SPRING

    Spring has arrived, however begrudgingly,and the young woman pushesthe older woman’s wheelchairalong the paths of the great park.Neither speaks, but each knowsthis could be the last time they do this.That shared knowledge paintseach flower in a more vibrant hue,each fallen petal is quicklybut individually mourned for,its beauty draining back into the soil.The older woman struggles…

    Lou Faber

  • TODAI-JI

    The snow capped mountainstares at the December skyshredding laughing clouds.I sit by the fire dreamingof the slow approach of spring. There is a momentwhen all is only silencethe zendo in stillness.In that moment I can hearthe entirety of Dharma The temple bell tolls,the deer assume their posture,afternoon zazen,I walk around Todai-jiin futile search of Buddha.

    Lou Faber

  • JANUARY

    It is an odd feeling, in the middleof January, to no longer considerbecoming a bear, choosingto hibernate until Spring arrivesdemanding an awakening. I did that for years, nevergrew the heavy fur coat neededand wasn’t much for digging densin the snow, so I sat insideand dreamed of bearishness. Living now among the birdswhere we shiver when…

    Lou Faber

  • THEN, NOW

    It was easier then, so let’sgo there, the spring of 1970,the location is less important,so long as it’s a coffee housewhere those barely old enoughto drink, or barely short of thatage congregate, waiting forsomething to happen or, Iseriously hoped, someone,someone with little hair, butwho carried James Joyce inhis jeans pocket, Portrait ofthe Artist the only…

    Lou Faber

  • MELODY

    The melody arose from the most unexpected place.They heard it deep within the woodsand even the birds fell silentpeering around, searchingfor its unrevealed source.It carried on for several versesand then, as quickly as it cameit was gone, the final notecarried off by a spring wind.No one entered, no one leftthe woods that dayand though many…

    Lou Faber

  • NOTING WEATHER

    The weather, he announced to no one in particular,ought to be musical or at leastincorporate some jazz. Spring is bebop, Trane and Parker,the sudden clash of Blakeythe downpours of Dizzy and the hint of what’s to comeon the fingers of Monk, andKenny and Milt. Summer brings the slow easingas early Miles slides in, and wesink…

    Lou Faber

  • UTEKI ASKS BUDDHA 鐵笛倒吹 四十語

    While out for a walkon a sun filled Spring dayif you happen across the Buddhahow will you recognize him? If you offer gasshoto Buddha surelyit will be returned, butis it he or merelyyour reflection offthe surface of a still pond?Does this matter to you? A reflection on case 45 of the Iron Flute Koans

    Lou Faber

  • I WANT

    I want the sky to be that certain crimsontinged with burnt sienna and cinnabar,but today winter is holding swayand the sun sneaks off behindthe gray wall from which it only peeked,and left the day one of grayscalewhere intensity replaced beautyand even the cardinal opted to stayhigh in the spruce, offeringonly an occasional glint of red.We…

    Lou Faber

  • THE PROMISE

    The moon has gone past full and as waning as I write, it’s slow retreat hopefully taking with it the burden of winter, that we now must measure in feet, the inches having been heaved up, one upon another. Spring will come soon for a taste of it, for spring is an inveterate tease, preferring…

    Lou Faber

  • NAME THAT CLOUD

    The weather, he announced to no one in particular, ought to be musical or at least incorporate some jazz. Spring is bebop, Trane and Parker, the sudden clash of Blakey the downpours of Dizzy and the hint of what’s to come on the fingers of Monk, and Kenny and Milt. Summer brings the slow easing…

    Lou Faber