Works

This Fallen Leaf

Walking the Tjumpuhan Valley, Ubud.

Wander the gardens, choose a mossy path
beside a lilypad pool where
wavering fish lie in the shade of a glissy leaf,
pass beneath two black butterflies
in endless spirals of lovemaking,
through doors in a pavilion carved
to vast battlescenes of the Ramayana ,
wade the pebbled stream which mimics
a meander of the river below,
under starlight frangipani and sunset hibiscus,
beyond the frothy spout of a stone hog’s snout
or a frog with a flower behind an ear,
a fetch of glide and swirl,
a hundred strides to the far bank
where gekkos drink, a clear view
of the jungle terraces climbing
from riverbend to mountaintop:
waterfalls, treefalls, palmfronds, fernfronds,
weighty tresses of climbers, lacing it together, tight,
there a cicada, pollinating blossom with its dusty tongue
is the one movement to catch the eye here,
where the surge to begin life is so dense
to be uncountable in the space
occupied by a river stone, or beneath this fallen leaf.

Tjumpuhan Valley, Ubud.