Prokhor Ozornin - On the Wings of Hope - Prose

- And why one has to overcome this wood on his journey to the Bridge at all? Cannot we simply bypass it somehow?

- One has to pass through this entire wood so that he can accumulate enough Wisdom, without which it will be extremely difficult to journey to the end.

- And what is awaiting us further, after the wood? Probably the very Bridge to the Island itself?

- Oh, certainly not! - the Wiseman smiled good-naturally. - Just behind the wood the River of Time keeps flowing.

- What a strange name for the river! And who have decided to call some usual river so pathetically?

- Oh, if only it was some common river! But no, it’s even more surprising than the Wood of Life Difficulties itself.

- Most probably, it’s very wide and filled to the bottom with some sort of predatory fish like piranhas? - the young man cheerfully burst out laughing. - Nevertheless, it’s probably not too difficult to cross it by swimming.

- No sort of predatory fish is ever present there, - the Wiseman unexpectedly replied firmly. - To be bitten for feet by some pity piranhas - it’s such an insignificant trial! It’s much more uneasy to feel the Link of Times under own feet and pass the river, leaning on it.

- But what’s that - the Link of Times?

- The rope bridge, connecting two sides of the river, is called that way. This bridge is very, very, extremely ancient and old, for it has existed there since the most ancient eras, connecting the times. Waves of time of that river are lapping under it, sprinkling it with myriads of water drops and consequently during all the time of its existence the bridge has become extremely slippery. Inexperienced and self-assured traveler can easily slip on its boards and fall down to the river.

- But is that not possible to get out of river back on the coast and start everything anew? - the young man was surprised.

- Alas, but as soon as the man gets caught into the raging whirlpool of that river, the time starts flowing for him so quickly and uncontrollably, that, when he will finally manage to swim to the coast, he can have already become elderly aged man, and thus will possess neither the forces, nor time or desire to move through the river any further.

- But how is it possible not to stumble on that bridge through the River of Times? How can I truly feel the bridge under my feet?

- The feel underfoot the link of times means to understand that behind the last instant there will be a following, and behind the current there was previous one. We were forgetting the previous instant and never knew the following, but that doesn’t mean that there was no previous, and the following would never come true. To understand that means to feel the link of times, and, feeling it, not to slip. To understand the rapidity of time and the value of each given to us instant means to cross the bridge over the River of Times.

- All that is so uneasy! - the young warrior sighed. - Well, and what is awaiting us after the River of Times? Now it will probably be that main Bridge at long last?

- No, before reaching the Bridge on the Island, one still has to travel through the entire Desert of Loneliness.

- Sounds very terrifying! - exclaimed the young man.

- In the Desert of Loneliness each man remains alone with himself. In the Desert of Loneliness he is being tormented by his own demons, over whom he still haven’t totally prevailed in course of own life. Demons of Fear, Doubt and Grief are being encountered there more often than others. It seems to the traveler that he is left alone and abandoned to the mercy of fate, though it’s his fate itself that leads him through this scorching desert. Demons are constantly tormenting him, trying to make him fall in despair and curtail from own path, for they do clearly know how very close is the final goal of the traveler. The sun of reason do constantly burn down his skin, poisonous scorpions and snakes of evil thoughts endlessly crawl under his feet. There is a lonely Oasis of Hope in that desert, yet one can reach it only by the end of the day, when your forces are practically extinguished, yet there is a faith in a miracle living deep inside your soul. Those who have reached the Oasis are granted the good fortune of Strength of Spirit, which is so greatly required for the ascension on the Bridge. From the Oasis to the Bridge there lies two more days of travelling through the desert.

- But how must the traveler move under the scorching sun for two whole new days? This is a pure suicide mission! - the young man cried out.

- By noon of the third day the Angel from the Divine Island comes to a half-dead traveler. He covers him from burning beams with his snow-white wings, helping to restore his forces.

- And how did you manage to learn all that? - the young man was feeling himself uneasy. - After all you must have never seen even a single Angel in your entire life! - he exhaled.

- So says the legend, - the Wiseman smiled. - And besides all that, there are still few ones living in our world, who have once met Them face to face one way or another.

- And what occurs then?

- And then the desert once comes to an end, and the man comes to the Bridge.

- That very one, leading to the Island?

- Yes, that very one! It’s said that the Divine Island lies in the middle of Ocean of Life and is surrounded with high rocks, hiding what lies inside them from eyes of strangers. The only way for those daring to get on the Island is to pass on the Bridge alone. The Bridge gradually rises up, ascending higher and higher from the rocky foothills banding the desert directly to the center of the Island. It’ said that there is a cave in the rocks through which it’s possible to enter the valley in the center of the Island, - but one can reach the cave only by passing the Bridge.

- Well, if the traveler managed to reach the Bridge at last, then it would not be difficult at all to overcome the rest of his path! - the young man sighted cheerfully.

- Oh! - the Wiseman answered with irony, - if only it was that way! The truth in fact is that all the previous trials were only the preparation for the last step. The entrance to the Bridge is being guarded - protected by a huge and terrifying many-headed and almost invincible hydra. This hydra possess many thousands of heads, breathing poisons of envy, sulfur of contempt, fire of irritation, squealing and abusing the warrior in thousands and thousands of voices in many ways. It’s almost immortal, because as soon as you have overcome in verbal duel one of her heads, another one immediately grows on its place, being even more awful and terrible than the former one. So, envy transforms itself into cruelty, contempt becomes hatred, and irritation turns into anger, and from the endless abuse your very ears can wither easily.

- What is the name of that monster?! - the young man exclaimed in horror.

- It’s called no less than Public Opinion, - replied the Wiseman. - After all, if one desires to reach his most cherished and pure dream, he must once overcome the most rough and condemning Public Opinion. The truth is in fact that despite almost full invulnerability of this monster, the traveler can nevertheless ascend the Bridge, because this monster with his entire external dreadfulness isn’t capable to cause any harm until he is engaged into the fight by the will of the traveler, who have forgotten the true purpose of his journey.

- But how is that possible to evade this monster? - the young man was surprised.

- One must simply … pay no attention to it! - the Wiseman burst out laughing. - This monster is being fed by the very surpluses of human attention, and by such emanations he finds his next victims. Those who desire too much attention, risk to become too dead sometimes.

- Wow! - the young man exclaimed, being struck by what he has just heard. - How simple and difficult at the same time is all that!