overlooking the life below.

Seeing streetlamps spitting yellow.

Watching trails of red and white;

heads and tails of speeding ants.

My feet are propped up on the

invisible glass floor as I am

thrilling in the detachment

and loving God’s view.

 

I usually wander those streets;

Just one more plain plebeian.

But when I’m reside up here,

surrounded by newspaper

sun-shields and illuminated by

the console’s green glow,

everything suddenly changes.

Beauty replaces the commonplace

and I sit, dreaming, on worn leather.

 

I ascend this place to work,

piecing together the tall,

refrigerator-box buildings

that loom beneath me.

But every now and then

after we all clock out,

I quietly slip back up

to sequester myself away,

and my solitude delights me.

 

I cannot be touched here;

here, no worries exist.

Debt doesn’t overshadow me.

There is no nagging girlfriend

or oppressive social demands.

There is simply peace.

I gaze across downtown,

observing people from afar

and watching over my city.