The Trevi Fountain In Rome, Italy

Trevi Fountain in Rome, Italy

Stone figures of Roman soldiers standing stiff, not swaying, fighting, destroying Second Temple in Jerusalem. Trevi Fountain built in guilt in 1762 CE., Roman soldiers thirsty, needing a drink after the world went dry. She gushes torrents of pure rain water, as the largest Baroque fountain in the world! At night the mist gathers in a fog around the stone pillar heads of the statues that bathe in this fountain bringing the rocks to life as they kick around in the water and splash, needing to purify themselves in a vivacious spa, a bath for the unclean.

Piazza di Trevi, Roma, Italy, remembering Italian, what comes to mind is "La bella vita!" translated into English meaning "Beautiful life!"

Looking up into the cloudy skies upward toward the top of the fountain, getting sprayed in the face by condensation as rain clouds drift by releasing moisture from the heavens, or did the spray come from her knowing nozzles? Accepting, in gratitude, all fresh water from wherever its source: cooling, refreshing, in a hot sun: patching linear cracks like crevices of dryness on my face from wisdom, not as old as Trevi, but just as young. She is my fountain of youth, as children swim where 3 roads meet in her middle: Trevi is a theatre's stage alive with dancing, a spinning story, a traveler's tale.

Sparkling silver, bronze, and golden coins, Euros, at the bottom of this fountain, heavy and sinking, going to charity, thrown in luckiness to make a wish for the healing of the poor. The coin skips over the pool, skimming the surface, money accumulating at the bottom of Trevi becoming a king's treasure with every new cent. Hot sun reflecting and dancing in ripples--wet surface shining like a mirror, seeing many blurred faces in the crowd, chattering in mouthy-ness but then they cheer "Halleluyah" with each new dollar collected. Water bath donations going towards curing the sick with hope. Counting coins beneath, seeing faces of fallen Roman soldiers swimming in the bubbles: ears, eyes, dismembered arms and weapons; but no more battles, bloodshed now washed away: peace prevailing in a winter celebration of Chanukah, a war won by the Maccabees, bumblebees were stung with their own stingers. The Rabbi said in the holy text of the Pirkei Avot: "If you drown me, you will be drowned, if you are drowned, the person who drowned you will be drowned."

Scuba diving, sipping liquids around lake, pools of brilliant blues and whites, heaviness in tons of liters, gallons, spilling overboard. Spotlights shining golden, as I walk away and remember the circumstance of a circumference of millions of droplets, and wise old sculpted rocks of white stone. Will be there again in my next life.