It seems everything here in Bali eventually makes it’s way to the sea.
Nappies, toothpaste tubes, old bits of bicycles
all are borne on the great downward flow
of raindrops falling on the fat green leaves
covering the upper slopes of the volcano,
then slowly collecting, winding through paddy after paddy
until meeting the wild rivers which run to the sea.
This morning I made an offering, to the Great River God. The God quickly accepted, pulling a sacrificial painting from my hands. It now surges, submerges, whirls, then rises again to the sun, as it makes it’s watery way down to the sea.
Will it make it?
Maybe, maybe not, my painting is
now in the capable hands of the Great River Gods.