The View from the 8th Floor

The view from the 8th floor

I call it the Kenyan version of Wall Street

It is where startups with regional markets meet

Not for a discussion

But all lost in their business world

A shared office

They only cross borders over kitchen chit chat.

The view from the 8th floor is what always moves me

A serenity yet to be disturbed

By the buildings that grow among the trees

It’s a good conglomerate

It’s not so

In the Eastern hemisphere of the Kenyan Wall Street

Nothing makes me feel closer to nature like the little birdie flying in utter freedom,

Yet not high enough

Since these buildings that grew among the trees are quite tall

These man made trees are also quite magnificent

My curious self begins to plan how to walk there and have a glimpse of the human capacity

At the same time, I long for the smell of the African soil,

And the plants whose technology we will never beat

How do you explain that those seemingly fragile leaves

Are the powerhouse without which plants would be utterly useless?

My train of thought is disrupted by a smoker

Who is kind enough to share his smoke with me

Too bad,

I love my lungs mister

As I pick my dishes,

Now that the food turned cold,

I make a mental note

I need to visit that building

Another therapeutic walk

Like the one I had yesterday.

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