the pilgrim on the mountain
When we returned to the city, we drove up to the mountain overlooking the sea
and mended the cracking gray concrete with blood-red scars.
While working, a zealous Australian approached,
his heart full of kindness and his eyes full of flames.
Him, on a 4-week pilgrimage in the footsteps of prophets;
us, metaphorically healing the wounds of time.
He wondered whether the nearby Elijah’s Cave is the real deal, or just a tourist attraction.
I replied that in my opinion, even if Elijah had never actually dwelled there,
but thousands of people over the centuries are convinced that he had,
then the place is imbued with their energy
and that makes it into a meaningful place, either way.
The zealous Australian sparkled his eyes and disagreed.
“You,” he said, “contend that humans can produce such energy,
where as I believe that energy such as this is the sole property of God.”
Either way, it was a beautiful day.