an old writer and his words

  • FISHING

    Many years ago, I would sit in a small boat and drop my hook into the river, and wait for the bass to strike. Those were the days when a large enough fish would be served at dinner, and smaller fish were thrown back to heal in the water. I no longer fish but the…

    Lou Faber

  • TWO THOUGHTS

      Stare at a still pond, hear the birds “Beedu, Beedu,” now truly listen. . .   Tomorrow is gone, yesterday has disappeared. What moment is this?

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT, SHE ASKS, DOES A FEATHER SOUND LIKE?

    echo of Galileo’s ball in speeding flight once cast off the tower, the cascade of butterfly wings in mid migration, and universes collapsing, and the sound of everything the moment before there was time.

    Lou Faber

  • MUGO’S FANCIES 鐵笛倒吹 語十九

    If you stand on the shore of a still pond and toss a stone into its middle the ripples will spread slowly until the water laps your toes. If you stand on the shore of a still pond and toss a ring of the finest gold into the middle, the ripples will spread slowly until…

    Lou Faber

  • AT THE BORDER

    Out at the edge of the universe, time has no beginning and stretches endlessly, as a stone dropped, its ripples spreading outward across a shoreless lake. There is no time here at the margin, no space consumed by all space. I would touch the edge and press it outward disrupting balance until it all draws…

    Lou Faber

  • IMPERMANENCE

    In this moment there is, and can be, no other. And when the moment is gone it never existed, much as the next will never exist. So it is with us, a reflection of the ripple of the long sunk stone now nestling the bottom of the pond.

    Lou Faber

  • ETERNITY

    In a clockless world all life is an approximation and clear boundaries evaporate like the mist off a morning pond. In that world, this moment seeps into the next, night becomes day, only to return again. The Buddha knew this, for in his clockless world all that existed was the moment, an instant that was, as…

    Lou Faber

  • A DIFFERENT SKY

    We lie on a hill side by side, staring up at the passing clouds, discerning shapes, both of us break into a smile, each of us sees a completely different sky. After some time I reach out and touch her hand, our fingers interlace, or perhaps it is she who reached out to me, fingers intertwined.…

    Lou Faber

  • ISSA PAUSES

    first snow of winter white coated Buddha dreaming of chrysanthemums   prayer flags unmoving in the stillness of morning summer or winter?   tomorrow is gone, yesterday has disappeared. what moment is this?

    Lou Faber

  • CLIFFSIDE AGAIN: HEKIGANROKU CASE 5

    HSUEH FENG’S GRAIN OF RICE It is not the seeing but the looking that will drive you to the edge. It is easy to see, you hardly need eyes for that task, but to look is beyond seeing. Do you think this a mere grain of rice? Look closely, do you see the entire world?…

    Lou Faber