Part 1: Above a Town

I cannot tell the street
from rivers, streams, or brooks.
Highways are distinct.
Their surveyed lines
run from point to and fro,
but roads
are reminiscent
of long 'go trodden foot-paths
a foreign foot once tread.
They whined like rivers,
and cut sharp like fallen trees.

The steeple
tops the church
pointing upwards.
Through me,
sinners' penances
travel to the Lord;
I am unimportant.