The earth looks down upon itself.
Its gaze transfixed on the crust of its floor.
Every creature born there grows old, likewise looking downward.
What is it about this planetary mass that draws our eyes below?
Where the paths we endlessly traverse
become lines that our eyes seldom escape?
As though the same gravity which keeps our bodies rooted,
also captures our gaze;
its pull on our lids too strong to break free.
The falcon floats on drafts of air,
its body drawing lines across the sky.
But its eyes, too, remain powerless to look beyond the land of walkers.
The moon beams brightly upon the earth, pulling at its fluid core.
He circulates her form, captivated by her beauty.
But imprisoned to her will, even he looks downward only.
God himself looks down upon the world,
and finds there a tarnished object.
He is moved with compassion, and disgust.
We gaze upon astral planes and ponder what lies beyond.
In this we find wonder and awe, praise even…
The aspect which elicits wonderment, confines also to a temporal existence.
Infinite space and time stretch beyond our reach.
Here we gaze, from time to time, for answers of being.
But met with silence, we return below—the curious expanse unattainable.
What hope exists in that which is beyond knowing?
What purpose the brevity of life in the spectrum of eternal magnitude?
None perhaps but to continue forward, gazing below, motion by motion…
Until the dying light reveals everything, or nothing at all.
Jesse Dortzbach is an artist, a builder, a teacher, and a father of two. He grew up in Kenya as a child of missionary parents where he experienced a life of adventure, self discovery, and love in the midst of profound poverty and injustice. His recent accomplishments include waking up this morning to seek purpose in the day, and working hard to be emotionally available, psychologically stable, and mentally present for his children.
Art: Jesse Dortzbach, Hovering, oil, 2009.
