an old writer and his words

  • DREAMING OF GOLDILOCKS

    The universe is more vast than we could begin to contemplate forty billion galaxies of forty billions stars, thrust out a child, an aged one bent by time mothers with children in tow, giants standing above with names belying their stature. Sitting here, pen in hand it is comforting to know there is another, and…

    Lou Faber

  • ANCESTORS

    He clearly remembers standing on the edge peering down into the almost bottomless canyon, listening to the narrow river slide across the rocks thrown down by its walls over millennia. He was a visitor here, knew he would stay only briefly, then leave, his spirit hiding among the rocks in the nearby mountains, staring down…

    Lou Faber

  • ADIRONDACK EVENING

    Atop the hill the trees are filigree against the fading light. The tents are fireflies twinkling as night reclaims the earth. I am caught up in the chill watching my breath kiss the stars. First Appeared in Blueline, Vol. 22, 2001.  Reprinted in Legal Studies Forum, Vol. 29, No. 1, 2005

    Lou Faber

  • SEPPO’S TURNING THE WHEEL 正法眼蔵 三十八

    The wisest of men when asked “at what time it is best to pursue the Way,” will answer when a thousand stars have made their presence known. The wisest student will say “when cleaning myself by bathing in the mud.” This will become clear when the frog consumes the dragon. A reflection on Case 38…

    Lou Faber

  • RAPTOR

    Bald eagle perches tree top winter barren gray and stares at stunted pines. Hawk, head tucked under massive wings reaching for distant stars rides a thermal coaster waiting for squirrels. Hills cry out raging against dawn tears flow puddling in footprints of a distant god.

    Lou Faber

  • HIGH DESERT DREAM

    The mountains rise, bluer blacker than real against a faded sky. The ancestors have fled these hills, no orange eyes stare out of the night, no voices of the trickster take up chorus against the stars.

    Lou Faber

  • ADIRONDACK EVENING

    Atop the hill the trees are filigree against the fading light. The tents are fireflies twinkling as night reclaims the earth. I am caught up in the chill watching my breath kiss the stars. First Appeared in Blueline, Vol. 22, 2001. Reprinted in Legal Studies Forum, Vol. 29, No. 1, 2005

    Lou Faber

  • ANCIENT HISTORY

    He asked her what she did, and the question surprised her. Most didn’t ask that until much later on, but she replied, “I am a historian.” He said, “Isn’t that an odd profession,” quickly adding, “and I don’t mean for a woman.” “It is,” she smiled, “but I fell in love with history as a…

    Lou Faber

  • CELESTIAL HARMONY

    The summer sky barely pauses to consider what might be going on beneath it. Everything seems to move, there can be no stillness. Once in the rarest of whiles, the sky and the river align, and each is frozen in a stasis that defies understanding or categorization. The stars realize this and shine a moment…

    Lou Faber

  • SEPPO’S TURNING THE WHEEL 正法眼蔵 三十八

    The wisest of men when asked at what time it is best to pursue the Way will answer: when a thousand stars have made their presence known. The wisest student will say: when cleaning myself by bathing in the mud. This will become clear to you when the frog consumes the dragon.

    Lou Faber