What is the city over the mountains
…just behind the flatness of today and the thoughts that I think right now, there rise the imaginary towers of the future… naturally they can only be ethereal. We think: perhaps our children, or their children, will be the fortunate ones, the generation that moves into those towers of the light. They will love each other and they will love the earth and the sky; they will live in balance between desire and fulfillment; they will have time to think clearly, as they walk through the beautiful towers, and the great parklands surrounding them. They will admit they know nothing of death, yet they will not fear it. Their cities will resemble the high music of freedom; so we think…
The Fossilized Village
So we think, exactly as every generation has thought since the first stone was set up on end. So shall our children think, and theirs. The imaginary towers, ethereal, unreal, beauty upon beauty, cripple us; we stumble, for we cannot look down at our feet. Our real cities crumble or burn, and we cry out, surprised, anguished, that the crystal towers will never be built; the future will not traverse time and save us from this flat brick wall. Behind the towers is only a null sky, a white void. Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin.