Frangipani Dream – Poetry by Markus Hamence, Seminyak, Bali, January 2026

Beneath a Bali sky,
the frangipani drops its light
onto warm stone paths,
petals resting where bare feet wander slowly.

Incense spirals through the morning,
offerings laid with a quiet care,
and the frangipani watches on,
soft, steady, unbothered by time.

Its scent moves like memory,
sweet and grounding,
carried on air that feels ancient
and completely alive.

Branches stretch, sun-kissed and spare,
teaching balance without words,
rooted deep while flowering freely,
asking nothing, giving everything.

Here, the world feels simpler.
Breath deepens.
The heart softens.

The frangipani blooms as Bali does,
with grace, ritual, and ease,
a reminder that beauty
lives best when it is allowed to be.