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.