I watch the faith

sometimes

looking at the auras

of the faithful

listening to their gentle

songs and mumblings.
 
 

I sit on the

dirty curb

my feet in ancient mud

seeing their parades

the peregrinos

drumming, dancing

walking calm

floating over potholes

all eyes and hearts

on the Blue Lady.

Miles and miles

but they walk on air

for love and mercy.
 
 

I hear the voice of

the one legged man

rising above the rest

as he hobbles by

crutches on cobblestones.

He sings to the Blue Lady

and I sit in the gutter

with chills and tears.

All that love

makes me cry, and makes me

love humanity.
 
 

I watch the faith

sometimes

with sadness.