My Ideal Town

I’ve always dreamt of building or living in an ideal town

a place where everything is well-thought

where people can live in houses of stone

while cultivating little gardens around and on the roofs

a town where water flows and you can just sit there peacefully

and listen to its melody and that of the wind

a town without cars, where people move on foot

a town where no one is in a hurry

and where all people know each other like a large family

people help one another with their gifts

some are skilled to grow vegetables, other take care of foils

some like to knit and weave, other craft shoes

each person does only what she loves doing, and does it following the rhythm of seasons


While writing these words I wonder if in a previous life I didn’t live within a tribe

in America or in Australia, Indian or Aborigine

because this harmony I describe between people, this respect of the individual gift, this genuine closeness with nature

is rare to retrieve in history

of course, most of villages all over the world resemble that description

but perhaps there’s a spirituality or wisdom element lacking to them, that had lacked to them

and I’m just nostalgic

of the time I could run barefoot in nature, breathing the scent of the soil and the dry and wet grass

listening to the different melodies of nature, the quietest and sweetest and the harshest, with my eyes and my ears

subdued and striking colors, each day different, unique, filling my heart with images of the infinity of my soul

that’s what I miss in these places of concrete and noise and dull geometries I’ve lived in

the same tree, the same pattern all over the streets

no place for fantasy and imagination

cars everywhere, glass, steel, concrete, unimaginative, dull

distorting the view we have of our soul, making us believe we are finite and square as the places we dwell in are