Choose well.
Consider not every waiting feather,
nor every graceful curve,
is fit for the work to come.
The finest reveal themselves only
to those prepared to wait.
Time is the first lesson.
Let the barrel harden well.
Hurry the making,
and it will betray your hand.
Patience gives it strength enough
to bear the gentlest touch.
Force has never fashioned
anything worth keeping.
The nib requires gentle care.
Here, haste is the enemy.
Take a little, then a little more.
Too much, and all is ruined.
For nothing can restore
what eager hands have lost.
Do not hurry the ink.
It offers itself willingly enough
to those content to wait.
Too little, and the page remains wanting;
too much, and every stroke
bears more than it should.
The measure is seldom found
in the first dipping.
Hold it lightly.
In truth, a heavy hand
leaves little room for grace.
The finest lines are never wrestled
onto the page.
They follow the hand
that has learned to listen.
Learn the nature of your quill.
In time you will discover
that no two quills are ever alike.
Some answer willingly,
while others ask a steadier hand.
It is folly to blame the feather
before first questioning the fingers.
There will come a day
when hand and quill move together
with such quiet understanding
that neither seems to lead.
The page requires no more;
it simply receives
what neither hand nor feather
could ever have earned
by force.