Opening Prayer

ah!
the unsung beauty of ink
eking its fluid soul
into the open pores of an open page
staining the pulp of a tree that once raced for the light
its branches and leaves dancing with its forest companions
the arterial pulse of its deep-rooted trunk
swelling each intricately persistent vein
with the wisdom of the ages
and the speechless splendour of a star-speckled night
conjuring up a lover who dreams of the ripeness
of his beloved
the hushed prayer of her breath
the fine weave of her skin
the waxing moon within the iron of her blood
the sleepy rise and fall of her tidal belly 
the sweet nothings whispered upon the cusp of dawn
the pressing nib of his desire
the royal plumage of the rising sun
the welcome stretch of their spines
the witty laughter of the rain at play
the incremental yawn of her waking thighs
and then the bliss
the pitch black bliss
of a parched and thirsty quill
dipped into
the liquid promise
of an unfathomable well
of ink-stained
joy