Oh, to be an architect! They are the people who bring sense and humanity and art to the places we work and live. They create buildings that are an extension of our personna and our energy and our organizations. Sweeping lines, grand vistas, ergonomic functionality all mounted on a structure of detailed curves, interlocking surfaces, multipurpose spaces that seem to move with the ebb and flow of activity and mass. Keeping us dry, cool, warm, safe, and happy. But much of the time, we forget where we are and only care about the work. And then, all you care about is,
I start my walk hearing only the dull, muffled echo
of the distant sounds of night crashing into ending work.
The deep intake of a collective breath
as keyboards click not
and scurried, harried, worried faces
rush without connecting.
The sweet transition from someone
to everyone
from nobleman to everyman
blurs the things they’ve done.
There is no sharp
line of change to guide them,
no quick ringing bell
to warn them.
But already,
Work’s beacon
like a siren
calls them,
to the endless life
rhythm that
will bring them back
tomorrow.