This haibun is for the dverse prompt about handwriting. As a lefty, I had a hard time mastering the knack of writing. What motivated me to overcome the difficulties was a childhood obsession with the shape of letters and the pictures they make.
From left-handed struggling to make the shape of the words as beautiful as the sound, with the examples of uncial script and italic, from the Book of Kells and the Lindisfarne Gospels, I shaped the loops and strokes into a form of art. In my eyes, words have always formed a frieze as weighty as the Bayeux Tapestry, the souls of their writers singing out in their graceful script. The child, inspired by the pictures and the colours in the capitals, the gold leaf and the vivid tints, formed by chilblained fingers in some long dead chapter house, writes still, guided by the hands of all those dead artists.
A leaf falls slowly,
telling autumn’s tale.