It was a river. No,
it was a stream. Or perhaps
it was a spring that flowed
from a mountain, because
it was so clear, and everyone
wanted to drink. In the distance,
there was a church with many
lights starting from one light.
There is a story about the light
that had to do with a sailor
and how the light appeared
on the hill of stone.
So a church was built. And up
the 114 steps the villagers go
for mass and the tourists go for
redemption. They pass each other
with a smile or a nod on the way up
and down. And the tourists want
to have the view from the top.
And the villager wants to see God
in the windows or at least Christ
or a saint or two. Everyone is hoping
for a miracle because now there are
many lights, and the priests are old.
And though they buy their bread
and their fish, the water on the hillside
runs into the mouths of all who stop.