an old writer and his words

  • TIPPING THE WATER BOTTLE 無門關 四十

    These few words gathered neatly on a scrap of simple paper, what do you call it? Answer carefully for you response may carry the keys to the doors of Mount Tai-i. Better still, upend the water bottle, watch the ink and water form a gentle pool into which no pebble drops. A reflection on Case…

    Lou Faber

  • DOGO’S GREATEST DEPTH 鐵笛倒吹 六十六

    If you walk into the room and many are meditating, how will you know which is the teacher, which the students? If one sits on a higher platform will you assume him teacher and ask the depth of his Zen? If he comes down to you and says he has no depth to offer do…

    Lou Faber

  • THE RIVER

    The river, flowing through the heart of the city never pauses to note the cafés and shops lining its banks. The couple in the wine bar look out over the river’s waters but can not imagine the sea. Among them, river, man and woman a thousand stories will go untold.

    Lou Faber

  • TEACHER

    My teaching is a drawing made of water, faint when it leaves the pen it will be eaten by the sky, it may fall on the pond amid other drops of rain. If you cup your hands and drink it in it will someday be sprinkled on the earth where it will feed a plant…

    Lou Faber

  • ARRIVAL

    The lake arrives each morning, just before she opens her eyes.  She’s tried to catch it, getting up earlier or later but it was just lapping the shore outside her window each time she first gazed at it.  Once she tried to stay up all night, and it clung to the shore despite its desire…

    Lou Faber