Я когда-то давно, в 2003 году, написала сказку

[mind-castle]

Вот она:

Two Rivers ©
To R.R. with love

High in the mountains in a Lake of clear cold water there lived two Rivers. As the Lake was very small the Rivers were small too and they never ran away from their bed in the Lake. Once, it was autumn, a little Swallow flew to the Lake’s bank to drink some water. She was leaving for a long journey to the Sea where her winter castle was. The Rivers were running about in their pool enjoying the warm sun and pretending to shower the Swallow with their cold spray. The Swallow just laughed and escaped gracefully, she was very quick and was not at all against playing with them.

- Little Swallow, little Swallow, tell us about the country you are flying to? – Asked the Rivers. They were very small Rivers and they never ran away from their bed in the Lake so they knew very little of the world and yet were very curious. And it doesn’t happen often with those who know very little.

- Oh, it is a country far away! The sun never sets there and Winter never comes there, for her skates get stuck in hot sand that she cannot go further. And huge granite idols guard the pass to the desert. Wonderful flowers bloom there after the rain once in a year. Multicolor butterflies serve us, birds, food. And even further, there lies the Sea. It is, indeed, a relation to you. Only its water one would not drink – so salty it is. It is vast – no bird can cross it from side to side. Sometimes it gets angry and shouts and roars and crushes at the rocks. Then its lazuli and turquoise changes to black with white spears of waves’ peaks. And at nights it is usually calm and silvery, and it whispers gently and tells us about what it saw in all corners of the world.

So said the little Swallow. She took some rest at the bank of the Lake, waved goodbye with her tail, spread her sharp black wings and started for the South. And the Rivers were so much fascinated with her words that they even stopped their plays. They laid their chins onto the banks of the Lake and fell silent. Then the one who was a bit more frolic and lively than her pensive sister, turned to the Lake.

- Mother, I want to go to the Sea. Of course, we are but his distant relations, but he is so old and wise and noble. Surely, he wouldn’t get angry that I came to visit him. And the other River just watched the Lake beseechingly, that her desire was the same as her sister’s. But she knew how much mother Lake would be saddened if they leave, that she didn’t have heart to voice her request.

The Lake sighed. She knew that nobody likes having distant relations, at least if they are not so distant as not to come visit you one day. Yet, she also knew time comes when children leave to see the world and to make opinions of their own. Of course, it is a stupid thing to have an opinion of your own, but one should never prevent their children from doing stupid things only because one cannot indulge in doing those oneself anymore.

So the Lake sighed, patted the Rivers on the heads with a little waterfall and kissed their foamy curls.

- At least they will see more than I saw and learn more than I learned, - muttered the Lake to herself as her daughters galloped joyfully off their bed and down to the green valley that laid at the mountains heel. She always wanted to travel, but was so patriotic that never dared to leave of the fear she could like it better elsewhere than at her little patch of land in the mountains.

And the Rivers ran down and down so that soon the Lake couldn’t see them anymore. At the beginning they jumped merrily from one rock to another enjoying the road. They thought themselves to be so grown-up and independent. Never before they came so far away from home. But as the slope became less steep, the Rivers got more and more weary and when they reached the valley they didn’t play tag anymore. They ran slowly, grew quiet and their crystal voices sounded muffled in the cold autumn mist. In fact, the descent made them thinner. Those, who go down, should always be ready to tighten one’s belt. And for the first time they thought that maybe it would be much better to be nourished by a mountain spring and know no worries than to travel all alone fending for themselves. But they had the Aim. And they were all eager to reach it. So they decided to have a short sleep and to continue their way with the first rays of the morning sun. Hungry and freezing they curled round each other and dozed off.

In the morning the Rivers drank to their plenty of a shower rain, after which the sun shone so brightly and the skies grew so clear and blue, that all yesterday doubts were bygone and forgotten and the Rivers with laughing, which resembled the tinkling of two small silver bells ran across the valley. Suddenly, they heard a small voice calling out for them.

- My dear ladies! I can see you are in a hurry and I am so sorry to interrupt your way, but I am dead in the water and it is in your power to save me from a disgraceful end. Please, stop a while and at least listen to my plea, I beg you!

It took some time the Rivers to see who is speaking to them and at last, hardly visible hidden between high azurite blades of sedge, they found a small Rillet.

- You see, my ladies, I am a messenger. – Started the Rillet. – A messenger of Love. There are two lakelets here, in the valley. In one of the lakelets there lives a Waterlily. She is the most beautiful Waterlily in the world, so says the Wind and he travels everywhere, he visits many countries and he knows what he is talking about. She is more pure and silver than the first moon-beam born of a new moon on the most clear and starry night. And in the second lakelet there lives a Reed Cane. He is the tallest, the most slender and the most rigid of all. And rigidity is one of the most advantageous features a young gentleman can have. And the Reed Cane fell in love with the Waterlily.

- How could that be? – Asked one of the Rivers. – Why! He must have never seen her!

- Of course you are right, my dear young lady, - answered the Rillet, his voice sounding more and more weak. – But the Wind spoke so high of her. Besides, he brought the Reed Cane her wonderful smell. And an image of the beloved is more than enough for true Love.

- But they live in different lakelets and they cannot travel to ever join each other! – Gasped the other River. – How can they love each other?

- Oh, you are too young to know distances are not a hindrance for true Love, on the contrary, they make Love stronger. So, the Reed Cane asked me to run on his behalf and tell the Waterlily he wants her to marry him. And now I am running back with an answer from the Waterlily, which would make him happy. But I am just a small Rillet and I had enough water in me to make the way to the lakelet where the Waterlily lives, but the trip has exhausted me and I am afraid I cannot make my way back. And the Reed Cane will never know the Waterlily loves him and agrees to marry him.

- This is very sad, - the first River commented. – But what can we do?

- Let me drink a bit from you. I do not need much – just two gulps – that would be enough for me to get to my lakelet.

- But we cannot! – Hissed the first River. – We ourselves need water to continue our way. We are going to visit our relation – the Sea. And it is absolutely unreasonable for the Reed Cane and the Waterlily to love each other. That would be a good lesson for them – one should love the one of his own kin and circle.

But the second River looked reproachfully at her sister.

- They love each other. And those who love become so very fragile, and if we do not help them, their hearts will be broken, and their Love killed. – And she extended her hand and let her water flow into the Rillet. The Rillet sprang up into the air, made a somersault and ran away, soon lost from view in the thick grass.

- Your kindness be blessed, young lady! – He cried out from the distance.

And the Rivers continued their way. Soon, the younger River felt she cannot catch up with her sister, she had no water enough to run so quickly.

- Sister, please, wait for me! I cannot run as fast as you! – The River called out.

- But we must hurry! We have a long way ahead of us! – Grumbled the elder River, but had pity on her sister and half-heartedly slowed down her pace.

The younger River looked ruefully at her sister and whispered. – After the first rain we will make the lost distance, I promise.

The elder River didn’t answer, just gave a snort and shook her head disapprovingly.

But as the Rivers came southwards the autumn gave way to a droughty summer and the Rivers were exhausted without water, but they stubbornly made their way to the Sea. So they ran farer and farer from their homeland in emerald mountains and one day they stopped to have some rest near a little solitary peasant house.

The land near the house looked waste and weedy and the only goat under a shabby shed was skinny and untended. A poorly dressed aged woman came out of the hut. Her face was traced by worries and despair, her hair was wan, her arms were thin and her shoulders were bent. She came to the yard and faced the skies with grief and hatred not paying attention to the Rivers hiding under the sagging fence.

- Not a drop of rain for a month! – Moaned the woman. – The soil is cracked and barren, and my little patch does not give enough vegetables to sell on the market, it does not give enough even to feed my small daughter and myself! There is no grass and my only goat does not have enough food to give milk! And our little well is dry! And we cannot move, as my daughter is too weak to outlive a journey. I must have made the gods angry that they punish me so cruelly, but my daughter is just a small child, her soul is as pure as morning dew on a chaste rose-bud. Why must she suffer? – So said the woman looking at the skies with her dry red, but tearless eyes and she stumbled back to her low hut.

- How very sad! – thought the younger River, but she didn’t dare to speak it out not to disappoint her sister.

The Rivers took some rest and continued their journey. They ran and ran until the skies grew dark and stars woke up winking to all tired travelers in the night. The Rivers yawning started to make their bed for a sleep. But as the elder River closed her eyes, her sister noiselessly slipped out of the bed and made her way back to the peasant hut. The only little window was black and the goat did not stir in her shed. The River crawled to the dry patch of land where vegetable seeds were sleeping in their beds not wanting to raise to the sun without water. The River sprinkled them and felt them moving spreading their little green leafs. Then the River ran to the well and let her water flow into it – enough to reach the underground springs to bring them out to the surface and to fill the well up. Smiling quietly to herself she hurried back to her sister and made it quite in time to meet the first rays of the dawning sun.

The next day the younger River felt so weary she could hardly raise her head, but she stubbornly gathered all her remaining strength and followed her sister. So they ran and ran, day after day, and the air was getting hotter and the land was getting drier. Some occasional drops of water they received now gave just enough strength to continue their way and more and more they suffered with hunger. And when the pagan thought the Sea did not exist at all came to their heads, when they regretted they had left their comfortable beds high in the emerald mountains of their motherland and taken this aimless journey, they felt the air changing. The changes were just very slight, but the air did not feel as burning and suffocating as before, they felt the Wind, however weak it was, brushing their hair, cooling their tired foreheads. And the Wind brought some strange unfamiliar smell of freshness and bitterness. Probably that is exactly the smell the Aim has.

High in the skies they saw a bird.

- Little bird, little bird, - cried the Rivers, - please, come down to us and tell us, whether the Sea is near? We are his distant relations and we are coming from a far-away country, where the world is all sparkling like a huge tourmaline in the Sun, and here the world is all deserted and burned and reminds a dim lump of gold we saw in the mountain caverns lying on our way. We came to tell him about all the wonders of the world we saw in our journey. But we are very tired, so tell us, whether there is still a long way ahead of us before we reach the Sea?

The bird flew lower to the Rivers and smiled at them.

- Rejoice, little Rivers, as your Aim is close! In a mile you will reach the Sea! – So said the bird and flew away. And Hope had come into the hearts of the two exhausted travelers.

And so, with new courage, the Rivers ran forward.

Suddenly they heard loud chirping over their heads. Their recent acquaintance – the little Bird was flying restlessly in the air flopping its wings.

- Help! Help! My children are going to die if you do not save them! Ruthless Sun set my nest on fire and my beloved have not yet learned to fly!– She cried desperately. And the Rivers saw a small nest on a law rock ledge. It was smouldering dangerously and three new-fledged birdies were huddled up in terror in the middle of it.

The younger River turned to her sister.

- We must save them! – she said. – Is there anything more precious in the world than a new life?

But her sister looked impatiently ahead.

- Of course, there is! – she answered. – It is the Aim!

- We must help her, -the younger River repeated. – She is a mother. Is there anything more terrible in the world than a mother loosing her children?

But her sister would not listen.

- Of course, there is! It is not reaching your Aim! – she said.

- I am too weak now, - the younger River continued, - and the water I have in me will suffice to put the fire down, but if I do it on my own I will die. But this little Bird gave us Hope. Without Hope I would not be able to continue my journey at all. So is there anything more beautiful in the world than Hope? And is it not worthy giving your life for?

So said the younger River and taking her final effort she sprang to the rock-ledge. The Fire hissed vainly and went out. And the River felt getting thinner and lighter and soaring into the air.

- She was always a queer thing, - the elder River spat. She shrugged her shoulders, tossed her head proudly and ran towards her Aim.

And soon she saw him. The Sea. He was huge, enormous, taking all the space the River could cover with her eyes. There was nothing seen except the Sea and the Sky above him. And his voice was thundering, his hair were curling stormy-black entwined with mossy-green sea-weeds. And the River felt scared. She wanted to turn back, but she could not stop so quickly was she running, and she regretted her sister was not there with her to share the burden of her fear. She ran into the Sea feeling all her thoughts and dreams, her identity itself dissolving, as she became a part of the world Ocean. It often happens that instead of you possessing your Aim, the Aim starts to possess yourself.

And the younger River was getting thinner and lighter and soared higher and higher into the sky until she became a small white Cloudlet. He floated gracefully in the air kissed by the Wind. Two sparkling tears dropped from his eyes into the Sea.

- Good bye, my sister, - he whispered. – One day I will return to join you and the Sea in the blissful oblivion, but my time has not come yet. I now know that the greatest Aim is serving others who need your help and not your own egoistic desires. That is the Aim, which killed me and that is the Aim, which resurrected me. And now I shall go and preach it to the others. – So said the Cloudlet and smiling quietly he set off to the journey back to the country of emerald-green mountains. From high above he saw the little Bird in her nest cherishing her children, the old peasant woman and her small daughter, rose back to her cheeks, the noble Reed and his beautiful beloved Waterlily, the Rillet – lively messenger of Love. Of course none of them recognized the River in the small Cloudlet flying over them, but they all were so happy, the Cloudlet could not help smiling warmly and tenderly at them from the skies. But every road sooner or later comes to an end and so one day the Cloudlet reached the emerald mountains of his motherland. He was so overjoyed with his return that plenteous Tears, which were Divine Tears poured from his eyes. And it so happened, that the Tears came upon a small boy playing in high unmown grass of the meadow near his family house. The boy grew to be the Greatest Poet of the Emerald Country for he was marked with the Divine Gift of Love and Beauty, which could only be gained by a suffering heart.

THE END