Прохор Озорнин - On the Wings of Hope - Prose

But all of that is, apparently, not your business – for after all you move, run and rush forward by a belt road, without seeing a path. You didn't understand for the sake of what you once again – and maybe the for the last time, – have come to the planet Earth. Dreadfully respectable type!

24.05.2013

“There is a legend,” the Wiseman smiled, “of the Divine Island, inhabited by singing Angels, where, seemingly, even the time ceases its movement. We transfer it to our warriors from one generation to another, and each and every year several brave ones stand out from the crowd, willing to find this true miracle.”

“Have anyone of them achieved it yet?” the young man questioned.

“We don't know it for certain. Probably, many of them were lost on a journey to the Bridge. Possibly, some of them decided not to ascend it and turned back, but, being tormented by feelings of shame and fear, decided to never return back home, having found themselves a haven in foreign lands. Perhaps, someone, at last, has managed to pass on the Bridge and reach the Island, but whether will they decide to come back to our usual world, if they have once tasted that mysterious heavenly beauty? And, besides all other things, the very living on that Island should have transformed them so much that lots of people would certainly not be able to recognize them, renewed, even if they returned to our habitual home.”

“And what is that wondrous Bridge that you have mentioned?” curiosity and genuine interest were shining in the eyes of the young warrior.

“Would you like to hear the legend of the Divine Island?” smiled the Wiseman.

“Yes!” the young man ardently answered him.

“Well, then listen and remember it well!”

***

“This Island is not marked on any of earth maps, yet it still exists. Many say that it's too majestic for the foot of mere mortal to step on its surface… others do argue that only those who have passed mysterious trials are given this unique chance and joy. Probably, someone would compare this island to an earthly paradise and would surely be mistaken, for his ideas of paradise are too superficial and ambiguous.”

“And where is this Island located, in what overseas lands?”

“It's far and still close to you at the same time. And the first thing required for each of the warriors marching in a journey is the Intuition.”

“And what in fact is that Intuition, and how can one find it inside himself?”

“The voice of Intuition can only be heard when the mind of yours becomes silent and heart of yours starts speaking. The first steps are always made with Intuition, therefore those who have chosen a wrong direction initially may never find the Island, even if they will have been traveling through many foreign lands throughout their entire life.”

“But are those still able to once hear the voice of their Intuition, and curtail to the right path?”

“Certainly, if they will manage to suppress inner whispers of own Arrogance.”

“And what happens with those who once chose the right way?”

“At the beginning of their journey to the Island, they have to pass through the Wood of Life Difficulties.”

“And what is that – the Wood of Life Difficulties?”

“It's a mystical forest full of growing trees, which people have agreed to call among themselves no other way than Problems.”

“And why did you call this wood mystical?”

“The fact is that every traveler sees this wood its own way. Someone cannot distinguish among a never-ending stream of trees the wood itself, while another practically doesn't see any trees at all. This wood is live, it possesses its own reason and behavior, and is capable of changing and transformation of itself according to each wanderer in compliance with his World-Outlook. That's why for some it seems as dark and gloomy, with a set of various clinging foot snags, fenny bogs, burdock, and nettle thickets, while for the rest it becomes a bright and sunny wood with joyfully-rustling trees, ever-singing birds and juicy berries, growing here and there under their feet.”

“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 has 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. An 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 the 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 hasn’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 does 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 lie two more days of traveling through the desert.”