The pen dances with the river.
White froth churns, a tale born,
Its ebony ink stretching its fingers,
Out, out from the water.

The pen dances with the river.
Water crashes and to its beat,
Words flow, faint heartbeats pulsing,
Through the artist’s fingers.

The pen dances with the river.
The rill rises, surges, carrying runes
And aethereal souls drawn by
Sable ink.

The pen dances with the river.
Water and ink bleed together.
A hand reaches, grasps
From the spitting froth.

The pen dances with the river.
Pulling across ink, painting,
Breathing life into
The bare canvas.