an old writer and his words

  • JUST STOP

    Stop what you are doing,put down your devices,turn off whatever you are streamingand look around you.Take careful note of what you see,inventory it if you wish.Now use your mind is a Time Machineimagine yourself right heretwo hundred, then four hundredand then a thousand years ago.What do you see? How is that worlddifferent from this one?…

    Lou Faber

  • A DRY GARDEN LAUGHING

    In the heart of Nara Parkthere is a five story pagoda.Deer appear, standing sentinelalong the lantern lined walk.Up the unseen hillthe Temple bell announcesthe full arrival of morningas the Golden Buddha awakens.Young children can seeall of this through eyesunlensed, and fetter free.They watch cloudsrelease a cascadeof tiny maple leaveswhich flow over sitting monks,a stream washing…

    Lou Faber

  • BAREFOOT

    He says his favorite cloudsall wear size seven shoes.He knows she believesshe once saw a paisley rainbowand will never forget it.She wears size seven shoesand her tears can be torrential,yet they can still nurturethe first flowers of spring.He imagines her a butterflysitting on the back of his hand,gossamer wings poisedat the thin edge of stillness.He…

    Lou Faber

  • THE HERMIT

    The hermit livesin the shadowof the great mountainlistening to the symphonyof the bluebirdand the wild Roseengulfed by the sky,the meandering streamhis constant companion.I live in a cityin a sea of city dwellerseach of us prisonersmarching from cellto cell, with passing nods.we hear only solitudeand are blindto the ever shifting clouds.Kuan Yin sitsin her templeand whispers…

    Lou Faber

  • RISING TIME

    Night rises slowlyfrom tangled rootsdragging ocher and rustfrom reluctant trees,promising only winter.We cannot see this,we sense only time eroding,slipping off untilthe trees are naked.They want onlyto hide themselvesin a shimmering gownof snow, recallingtheir verdancy, imagininganother season, a seasonof hope, a seasonof consecration, of light,of resurrection.We stand emotionallystripped on the banksof the stream into whichwe cannot…

    Lou Faber

  • WITHOUT

    He pretty much hated the outdoorscamping was a wholly alien conceptin parks for places for at besta short visit, a picnic lunchand then back in the car and home.He was not even a fan of the partsin the heart of the city, for theydrew crowds and he did notlike to be around other people.He wanted…

    Lou Faber

  • YOU THERE

    We dance between wantingto know what is out there,and fearing that we are notany longer unique, just onemore in an endless stream. And then we have to wonderif the others, such as they are,wonder what is out there,and fear that they are notany longer unique, just onemore in an endless stream. Has it always been…

    Lou Faber

  • JOSHU MEASURE THE WATER

    When your mind is ragingthoughts flowing, eddyingwhen you enter the zendowhat do you do in sitting? Do you take your stickand measure the waterto insure a safe fording,or do you sit amid the streamand let the floodwash over and around youdry and silent within? A reflection on case 47 of the Iron Flute Koans

    Lou Faber

  • SEPPO’S PUNCTUALITY 鐵笛倒吹 二十六

    You ask me how I know when to begin my sitting so it will be the right time. It is easy to watch the sun and stars for they clearly know. You ask what I do when the sky is black with impenetrable clouds, it is easy to watch the clouds. Water from the stream…

    Lou Faber

  • MOST WONDERFUL THING 鐵笛倒吹 六十語

    Which is more beautiful, the fragile flower or the stone set in the road? And which is the uglier? The stone, washed in a stream may shine like a diamond, the flower picked soon withers to dust. Each contains beauty each contains ugliness. When you see this you may smile until you feel the blow…

    Lou Faber