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The cross was the work
The highest hill was the proof
The criminals left and right of the carpenters son showed that anyone could mine, run a node, or hold, and we were all beckoned to follow Him
His solitude was His sovereignty
The cross is like the steel frame, the essential structure of an endeavor, perhaps. The summit is the rooftop terrace gardens like an observatory, confirming trajectory. The figures beside the Architect prove that any laborer could rivet the beams, manage the project, or read the blueprints—and all were hired to build. Solitude is the executive suite, authority over the skyline.
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