Issun-bōshi

Sewing Needle

Rice Bowl

River

One Sun Tall

He stands on the windowsill, one sun tall and brave.

His name is Issun-bōshi, and his voice is steady already.

He grips a Sewing Needle like a sword, jaw set.

The Rice Bowl taps the wood, and a faint river hush answers.

Windowsill Oath

On that river hush, Issun-bōshi steps down with careful pride.

He climbs into the Rice Bowl and raises a twig like an oar.

The Sewing Needle rides at his hip, bright as a sunbeam.

Water slaps the bowl, and distant market drums begin to thrum.

Setting Out

Drums boom nearby, and the River tightens beside a busy market.

People tower over Issun-bōshi, their sandals thudding as he paddles past.

A cart sends a wave, and the Rice Bowl wobbles hard.

The Sewing Needle glints, catching light like a promise before the bend.

Crowd and Current

That quick glint steadies him as the River opens beyond the bend.

Issun-bōshi plants the Sewing Needle against the current and rights the bowl.

Silence replaces the drums, and tiny ripples lace the water.

He smiles into the wind, and the journey finally feels like his.

The First Passage

One Sun Tall
By Pandi
2025
Windowsill Oath
He stands on the windowsill, one sun tall and brave.
His name is Issun-bōshi, and his voice is steady already.
He grips a Sewing Needle like a sword, jaw set.
The Rice Bowl taps the wood, and a faint river hush answers.
Setting Out
On that river hush, Issun-bōshi steps down with careful pride.
He climbs into the Rice Bowl and raises a twig like an oar.
The Sewing Needle rides at his hip, bright as a sunbeam.
Water slaps the bowl, and distant market drums begin to thrum.
Crowd and Current
Drums boom nearby, and the River tightens beside a busy market.
People tower over Issun-bōshi, their sandals thudding as he paddles past.
A cart sends a wave, and the Rice Bowl wobbles hard.
The Sewing Needle glints, catching light like a promise before the bend.
The First Passage
That quick glint steadies him as the River opens beyond the bend.
Issun-bōshi plants the Sewing Needle against the current and rights the bowl.
Silence replaces the drums, and tiny ripples lace the water.
He smiles into the wind, and the journey finally feels like his.

Issun-bōshi - Story Book

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