Somewhere In the Distance E-Book

Anastasia Volnaya

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

The works of Anastasia Volnya are addressed to the Christian perception of our world, affect the subtle soul strings of each of us, make us look at ourselves from outside, reflect about eternity and kindness.

Leseprobe

Somewhere In the Distance

(The Spirit of the Poetry)

By Anastasia Volnaya

Copyright© 2017 Anastasia Volnaya

Angel made of glass

Golden month has painted light of beauty of night. As the darkness which has contained light is fine! The glass angel standing on a window sill has been surrounded with an aura of light reflected in him. As if live, as if animated, he trumpet the anthem in the small horn to light. Heart of darkness – light. Who has believed in darkness, in this phantom, the myth? Darkness doesn't exist. There is no darkness. Also as there is no death. Darkness – a canvas under light paints. Death – a step to new life. The angel made of glass will sometime break, but light filled him once, is eternal. And the anthem that it is played on a small horn, will always sound.

2004

Time

Not having flesh and therefore feeling pain. With chasms instead of eyes and therefore all-seeing. Having immense cruelty and therefore gives lives. Touchingly merciful and therefore killing. Silent and therefore all-knowing. All-knowing and therefore silent. Great to incomprehensible. Incomprehensible to great. Dominating over a thought and subject only to a thought. Forever living and therefore knowing death. Knowing death and therefore forever living.

1991

Boy and angel

With love to Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's creativity

(Parable fairy tale)

– This is an angel – the boy has told, explaining value of the drawing to the adult.

– Where a nimbus over the head of an angel? – the adult has asked. The boy has pointed to the sun represented by a felt-tip pen.

– And about angelic clothes you have forgotten? – the adult continued to be perplexed. The boy has pointed to the drawn crowns.

– And footwear? The angel by all means has to have a footwear! – the adult became angry. The boy with a smile has concerned green hyphens of the grass represented by him.

– Look at easter cards or at engravings in ancient books, – angels of a winged. Why I don't see wings at your angel? – the adult has asked a question. The boy has in reply opened a box of a desk and has got the dried butterfly from the adult's collection from there. Has put it on the drawing and has led round on a contour. There was a miracle! The butterfly has recovered, became shining and multi-colored as the boy's felt-tip pens. The butterfly has flushed and, having roamed over the drawing, has flown away to an open window. And the drawn angel had had wings.

– You are an unusual boy, – the adult has told, – you are able to recover butterflies, but don't dare to play pranks more so; my collection too expensive costs. And still, – the adult has put on glasses and was inclined, peering into the drawing, – your angel after all barefoot. Hasn't stuck to an angel to walk about without footwear …

But the boy didn't listen to the adult any more. The small handle has squeezed a big hand and two persons small and big, one skipping, another have sedately gone outside for a door where the fidget wind where butterflies flash over not trimmed lawn. The most beautiful, the boy has recognized her at once, was the butterfly revived with his kind angel.

2007