The Journey Inward

I might have missed it 
If my companion hadn't pointed it out.
I am drawn into its spell.
Mouth open, eyes aglow,
I pace beneath it,
Curious, confused, caught up in its complexity.
What am I seeing?

Who are these people?
What are they reaching for?
Are they desperate?
Or determined?
Are they working together 
Or against one another?
What am I seeing?

I search their faces,
But their expressions give no clue.
I can't see strain
Or sadness,
Nor can I discern a smile
Or satisfaction.
What am I seeing? 

Are they fighting to get to the top,
In a battle for dominance?
Or is it a group effort,
Each body in exactly the right position
So as to boost the next one,
Forming a ladder to scale the wall?
What am I seeing?

Are they holding up the bridge,
A human buttress so to speak?
Is the group effort the point,
And so their faces do not show their individuality?
Or does the detail in their bodies 
Belie the diversity?
What am I seeing?

What if the artist conceived of an idea
And put his heart and soul into its creation
Not to make a statement
Or to teach a lesson
Or to take a stance
But for passersby to pause and think,
What am I seeing?

Because isn't that the way it should be?
Shouldn't we bring fresh eyes to the world,
And follow our gaze with the question, What am I seeing?
Wouldn't we all be better off if we stopped the assumptions,
Jammed on the brakes of judgement, existed outside our past experience,
And instead chose wonder, curiosity, awe, and confusion, asking ourselves,
What am I seeing?

                                         

Photo:  "Contrafuerte," Philadelphia, PA.  7.21.23 by JMR