On Top of a New Building

I stood on the top of the building. It was a new and would not be finished for another year. From the view, the whole of the city could be seen. Perched up high, my eyes were level with a soaring hawk.

Cities have a special look from a distance. Patterns emerge when the entire community is seen. The gridlines of streets can be made out by the repetitions of roofs. The curve of the river and the significance of a hill do not always form meaning on the street, but standing with the birds they do. Repetition of architecture and building construction pop out, while the details to distinguish blur in the distance.

In this city, a new building would stand. The beginning was marked with a ceremony and so would the end. Those on the roof were there for a middle mark. A person spoke about the significance of the new site, praised the workers, and spoke about the country. Others spoke about the significance of this new building, the rebuilding of the country, and appreciations to the workers, with hope that they might pass their skills along after its completion. All spoke well, all said meaningful words, and the hawks kept playing in the air.

They stayed so close because of a tree. Beside the building stood several trees with branches covered in orchids and moss. Beneath the cover of the leaves, a magical green playhouse of limbs hid. Within a limb sat a nest for the hawks. The tree had withstood over a hundred years of human presence. Weathering construction, destruction, conflict, and transition in the county, the limbs held the leaves and many living things lived in the forest of limbs inside.

I stood on the top of the new building. The plans allow it to withstand hostile conditions but so the the formation of the trees. The hawks eyed us all as they flew. Diving and soaring, they survived in this city through war and peace. As they watched us and the city, I prayed they watched over before retiring to their nest.