On the Wings of Hope : Prose

by Prokhor Ozornin Timong Lightbringer

  - And if I will refuse drinking from this sea ? – the Lion questioned.

  - Then, most likely, you will be unable to reach the river, - Fish answered.

  For several difficult minutes the Lion lay ashore, not even daring to take a sip of this water. However, when he has dared to do it at last, and has scooped some water in a paw, - it has tasted so bitter that he has immediately spat it out, being unable to bear that taste.

  - No way. To drink from this sea means to die instantly, no matter what the Fish would speak – the Lion has decided. I still have powers, I shall reach that river, for I am the tsar of animals !

  And the Lion, exhausted with thirst, having gathered the rest of his forces, has run in the direction, pointed by the Fish.

  His forces, however, finally run out after only several hours.

  The sun has risen highly once again over the Great Desert – too high for some of the terrestrial ones. After several hours of journey the Lion, exhausted with thirst, has fallen to hot sand, panting. He knew that he was dying. He knew that he failed to fulfill his duty.

  - Damned fish ! – he thought. There are no even signs of a river here, and never was for certain. You have lead me the wrong way, you have killed me ! – he growled. Devil’s ffffffiiiiiissssshhh ! – a loud roar of defeated tsar of animals spread over the desert – and then the desert went silent once again.

  Only a sun was still shining the same, only a sandy wind was still blowing, and only waves of great and boundless ocean were romping and splashing somewhere…

  And only several hours of journey still remained to the fresh river, feeding the sea … which he could pass, if only has dared to drink from this bitter source …

  04.10.2010

  How is all that ?

  How’s that – to feel, that something invaluable, for which you have been searching for all your life – that you’ve found it at last ?

  How’s that – to finally meet Him in private after so many earth years ?

  How’s that – to experience His endless love, being poured on us, and see people still hating each other ?

  How’s that – to perceive yourself as His warrior, fencing invisible Word blade ?

  How’s that – to know, that He is always nearby … just to stretch a hand ?

  How's that - to see same warriors, standing nearby, and behold how He smiles to all of you ?

  How’s that – to learn of your former path – of your former ways – at last and to observe the new one, revealing before you ?

  How’s that – to be aware of own immortality, and to reborn from ashes time and again as always, like the Phoenix for a new Earth journey ?

  How’s that – to feel the higher light warriors of God aiding you – and to hear a quiet whispering of Heavens ?

  How’s that – to feel a breathing of Universe inside you and sense a beating of Her heart ?

  How’s that – to absorb the Light of another world, penetrating you, and to give it new and new forms ?

  How’s that – to hear words of gratitude Firsthand ?

  How’s that – to accept a path, intended to you by God, voluntary and to rejoice from its beauty ?

  How’s that – to put one’s love into these words, intended to purify human hearts ?

  How’s that – to light up human souls and to revive them to new life ?

  How’s that - to see in one’s dreams the promised New world, only to wake up in sweat from rough touched of the old one ?

  How’s that – to observer, how long-term problems and vital complexities, gathered for years, are dissolved during one short earth span, blown away by a wind of changes, as though they never existed before ?

  How’s that – to truly love this world, despite all distortions, brought into it by capricious human mind ?

  How’s that – to know, what awaits so many of you and with a grief in one’s eyes observe you approaching the abyss ?

  How’s that – to keep whispering of all this to those, who still hear ?

  How’s that – to go nip and tuck with those, who, like you, knows and feels all this ?

  Oh men, if had only known, how’s all that …

  27.10.2010

  I feel

  I feel I don't belong there, yet this is my world for now.

  I feel like I am a sinner and a saint - all in one.

  I feel I used to fall, only to rise higher after.

  I feel I don't need to repeat the mistakes of the forgotten past again.

  I feel I have recently passed through some trial … yet there are more awaiting me on the path.

  I feel like I have already experienced all the common pleasures other ones dream of - and found them worthless.

  I feel I have forgotten my true nature and lost my past in the labyrinths of lifes.

  I feel like I was able to fly somehow, though I can't recall the time.

  I feel my road is of rare origin, yet it won't be easy.

  I feel many diamonds of the future path are still undiscovered.

  I feel my wish for transformation have triggered some fate threads, and I must prove my worth for the Universe.

  I feel the Universe is a constantly evolving, living being and we are all bound by some unseen force in it.

  I feel I must dive deeper inside me for the past to unfold.

  I feel I'm many-faced … so many personalities swirling inside me, constantly fighting for my attention. I am all them - and yet someone different.

  I feel I have awakened, yet partially. I won't exists as usual "me" when I will finally dare to open still closed eyes.

  I feel I could never awaken even like this, had I to listen to other people's "common sense".

  I feel I know the major marks of my path, yet the details are still undetermined.

  I feel my goals are right, yet only for me. My own ego must be destroyed in my wake for new essence to be born.

  I feel the happiness makes me lighter, yet still I cannot soar.

  I feel I can't call any country as motherland and even Earth is not home.

  I feel I don't need to belong to any organized group folks, yet I could … just to have some fun examining them.

  I feel I could speak more languages, yet now bound to the two, with one sounding so familiar … Did I relearn one of those ?

  I feel I could sometimes feel people's emotions flowing around me, unseen by others.

  I feel humans do not yet know the inner power they hold, for this knowledge could be dangerous.

  I feel the paths of all ones intertwine in a strange ways and there are no random events.

  I feel we are all have creativity of some origin, yet many ones buried it to look sane.

  I feel some interesting events marking the future of this world are yet to come.

  I feel we all have to be better if we are to survive.

  I feel I will always be somewhat "out of touch" there, yet I can accept the laws most ones live with … just in case.

  I feel somewhat like a child now, yet my mind is of elder.

  I feel I will never stop seeking the wisdom, nor do I want to.

  I feel I could walk the different direction, yet finally my destination would be the same.

  I feel I am still human on the surface - and that is for the better.

  I feel my path does never truly end, yet I am glad.

  I feel I am being guided, yet cannot see the guide.

  I feel I am not the only one who feels like this, yet those ones are few.

  I feel I could say more … yet this is sufficient.

  I feel I must keep silence … for now.

  13.08.2009

  Illusions of crowds

  You like judging so greatly that it seems as if you know everything of anything in the world around. You are so afraid of admitting own ignorance to anybody ! Probably, you already possess answers to all questions of life … or have you simply ceased searching for them ? Oh, yes – someone else have answered for you ! And thus you allowed them to dec
ide your own destiny.

  Certainly, you can console yourselves that you are neither the first, nor the last ones. That there are many ones, similar to you in our distressful world. That all people deceive, dissemble, steal, talk scandal, envy, sneer … Oh, if only such self-justifications had any power at all ! But if someone chooses to go and act together with the majority – whether he doesn’t become its integral part, sharing common responsibility for the choice of crowds ? But it’s so comfortable for many to feel themselves like a small screw, a pawn in a big crowd !

  How many leaders of crowds has this world seen ? All of them sank into oblivion. Yet the stream of new solvers-for-you, apparently, isn’t going to run low at all. It will never extinguish until you learn to decide for yourselves, listening to a low whisper of own souls. But are people even capable to listen ?

  You followed your leaders, destroying everything in your wake and trying to build something new on newly created ruins. You were ready to crucify others for the illusion of belief. For the sake of the next new idea, seeming so attractive to you, you destroyed thousands and thousands of innocent lives of your neighbors. Probably, it was worthwhile in your own opinions, yes ? Was it required to express internal contents of souls to understand all absurd of attempts of changing of others without changing yourselves first and foremost ? But whether it’s in your powers to revive those who have once been killed by you ?

  You listen to each and everybody, yourself being excluded. And even when you listen to “yourselves” – you keep hearing only an echo of decisions, imposed to you by others. But these decisions seem to you as ones coming from your own clarity of spirit … if only it was that way ! For this particular reason you continue sleeping with your eyes open widely, and behold dreams filled with a dope of your endless desires of this, that, and-most-certainly-that-thing-as-well. After all, your life will become so defective without all these infinite things, seizing your consciousness ! And that way you gain at least a new subject for yet another conversation about nothing with your colleagues by a dream.

  Until we dive in ourselves so deeply as it’s even possible, having learned own spiritual nature, we won’t be able to truly wake up. We will instead continue to operate and move like dummies for puppet leaders. We will keep thinking like them as if by a template; believing only in what they trust; dreaming of what it’s allowed to dream. But where will such “dreams” once lead us ?

  You will never awaken until you are a part of a crowd. The crowd isn’t capable to realize own illusions. One can fly up over the crowd, but will never creep under its feet. It’s useless to belittle crowds to behave reasonably. It’s impractical to count on collective conscious of crowds. Crowds dissipate naturally when each and every person in them gains his own identity. Crowds of unsleeping ones do not exist at all.

  The task of own awakening lies on everyone. No one else is capable to pass your own path – for that reason it cannot be passed while you are still a part of crowd. And you better not postpone these tasks for later. There is much less time remaining, that many of you would prefer to think.

  18.09.2012

  In the New World

  When was that?

  Sometimes it seems to me that all this has happened several minutes ago, even though long twenty years passed since these days. This is not a fairy tale – in any sense. This is a story of my life, its mysterious and unforgettable part, its guiding shining star. The beginning of my new journey in this world. If you would like – solar rebirth.

  Our memory always keeps for us the most remembered and wondrous moment of life. And today, after almost twenty years, I still remember very clearly that brightest month. They, those days, clearly reveal before me – whenever I wish it, my memory repeats them for me in brightest details – each and every day from several dozens. Sometimes it even seems to me that some special sort of memory is holding these events … They remained in my heart – those days.

  Now I am remembering those moments once again, and tears are sliding on my cheeks … These are tears of grief and joy, my friends. Each day and every hour is so clear …

  * * *

  “John, it’s time for you to go home!” - and worried mother appeared on a porch.

  But the boy did not hear her – he was far away. They together with Jim and Laura – little girl from the same city quarter were lapping in the river. They were scooping with their childish palms handfuls of water and with all available for them power were throwing them into each other, pouring over with a sparkling water stream.

  Here he grasped flowing water with both his hands and threw it directly into Jim, having poured all his face from top to the bottom. Then Jim, who was still throwing streams of water into laughing Laura, has somehow put a hand on water surface – and an instant later a whole water whirlwind has encircled him. A water shield has risen around Jim. He himself was turning in a water and beating it with hands – and streams flied in different directions from him, touching both the right (whom a Laura can be considered by right – for after all it was not she who have begun this attack on him!) ones, as well as guilty ones – meaning John, who had imprudence to pour over this water champion Jim and was not, being poured by uninterrupted water streams, have already felt sorrow for such a precipitate state.

  However this new water barrier and flying water streams, have, apparently, inspired all of them only more – they were laughing and pouring each other, no longer closing faces with hands from water streams, rushing in every direction by totally unpredictable trajectories, being sent by this or that party. Gradually he together with Laura, who have come to the rescue against this Loch Ness monster Jim, began to push him more and more to a coast – streams were beating in a face, he couldn’t see Jim clearly any longer, but kept fighting. But Jim did not retreat as well – now he had time to throw water in Laura as well, and she have got no less pressure than John.

  They were fighting and battling together with each other, and ringing childish laughter filled space and unrolled with waves around the place. They had lots of fun that day. Jim was finally pushed into a coast – and they together with Laura by the right of full winners poured him without future resistance from his side.

  Then they chased one after another in a water, much like jambs of blood-thirsty sharks, as the very same Jim has noticed. Those who have been caught up were seized in water for heels a dragged on a coast. Most easier it was to catch Laura – after they managed to seize her by heels in water, she obediently went to a coast and waited there while they were chasing one after another. Then, laughing, she swimmed to them – and this time was chasing them, already fairly tired from pursuit of one after another, and almost every time in that she prevailed. Well, certainly, they gave in to her.

  Then there were wood walks and singing of birds in branches of trees. It was morning and they, having taken seat on wood logs, were listening to bird’s trill as if being charmed.

  “Our wood brothers know how to praise light”, - I still clearly remember this phrase of Laura.

  There were their joint hide-and-seek games in wood windbreaks and plentiful high bushes, growing there. There were descents from frosty ice slopes and snow games. There were falling in deep snowdrifts and friendly laughter of friends, standing nearby. There was a joy of experiencing of such enormous and wonderful world, opened before them.

  They – these three – were only entering this life as children. They have been living like them from then on.

  They… They – three. Now he is the only one left.

  It was like a blow. No – it was much more terrible.

  As though one thousand of flaming hammers have fallen upon you and pressed down so strongly that you couldn’t even breath … As though some deep abyss is sucking you inside and you are unable to do anything … As though some invisible force is breaking and cutting you in pieces … As if you have ceased to live any longer …

  And still it was nevertheless – that particular day. Ten years ago – yes, then he lear
ned that finest friends of his childhood and youth, who have given him so much – Jim and Laura … - both of them have died. Both have left this world and he remained in it without them. “Without them. Without them. Alone. Alone. Alone”, - his consciousness was beating its rhythm like a hammer. “Without … them”, - echoing in consciousness words have finally merged into a pure excuse of a phrase – and he has fainted, having fallen to a suddenly approached ground.

  He came to his senses afterwards, though not immediately. For almost a year he has been coming to senses. This was indeed a great loss – a loss of, perhaps, the most valuable gift given by life to him. But he has endured it. Has consulted because he had to. And because a heart – his heart which has never before cheated him, has perseveringly and constantly from that day of this loss whispering to him that this separation is not eternal. That they, three ones will meet again under the sun of another world, will meet once his path here is finished and debt is fulfilled.

  But all this was later, many years before. And then they were bright children – and nothing and no one saddened their festival of life.

  * * *

  It seemed that this day was the most common afternoon, which happens exactly three hundred sixty five times during a year for a detached onlooker. But it might seem to someone other – yet not to him. Not to him.

  A ghost or a man? At first I thought that I’ve encountered a true ghost, when he carefully approached my home and greeted me. As if having appeared from nowhere …

  I welcomed him, having sharply put my right palm to a head and then releasing it – for unknown to me reason men in military uniform often made this gesture, and so I have decided to try it out as well.