THE HEALING GARDEN

Artist: Nikolai Shevchuk

The stressed city had grown in every possible direction in which it could find profit. He cut down the trees, plowed the fields, and built his dreams houses, factories and shiny offices. The lack of trees reduced the flow of oxygen and banished the animals from their homes. Many of them were killed in order not to spoil the view of the stressed robots. Thousands of bravest representatives of various animal species fled, wandering homeless on the roads in search of their new Noah's Ark to save themselves not from God's wrath this time, but from the human greed and stupidity.

And God allows this to happen.

Thousands of cars crawled in different directions, spitting poisonous gases that stained the air in the colors of death - gray, lead, gloomy, hopeless. It killed the last living creatures around. Was hard for the sun rays to reach the houses of the people covered by the poisonous smog, which, like insanely revenge, embraced in the lifeless diaper the madmen who had caused it all.

Stressed neurotic people with pale, sick faces stood behind the wheels of their automobile cells shut up and blew the horns as a cry for help. A cry for help that had to be heard by the other robots, whose religion was the profit at all costs. Profit, which they called "success." Success that killed humanity, mercy and compassion in them. Because where there is a profit and success there is no need for humanity, compassion, and mercy. That’s how it was in the robots  world.

And God allows this to happen.

 Because the man was the master of the earth. The smartest of all the animals that had the dangerous gift both to fly inspired to space to reach the stars and to destroy the life around them. Because the man was an evil and greedy master on the earth. Master, transformed voluntarily into an unlucky slave of the profit, caught ridiculously in his own trap.

At that time, the animals, birds, insects, and all the seeds of the trees, plants, and flowers were on their way in search of their Noah's ark, the place to save them. I was one of them. One of the last representatives of this unreasonable homo sapiens, ready to kill and ruin everything holy. Together with the animals I traveled a few dead years in search of a sign that God did not leave us.

Small, naughty white clouds like stolen sighs made us company, running away from the poisonous smog.

And God allows this to happen.

After a few dead years in search of meaning and fleeing from death, we arrived at a place far from the world of robots. Both me and the animals were pregnant with a thirst for love, harmony, births and peace. The sun had complete control here, away from the poisonous smog. And that was a great prerequisite for life to happen. The sun rays, like a peaceful spider web, covered everything, removing aggression and filling the air with blissful silence and gentleness.

And God allows this to happen.

The place was not the Garden of Eden. No, it was not. It was a real garden, old-fashioned, but with the potential to rule the future. There was no profit in it, but on the contrary it was abandoned, but full of life. The garden was not the Garden of Eden, nor was it a literary metaphor. It was not also Noah's Ark, whose associations with the end, death, and revival, with all this long process left little hope that everyone could see the end revived. It was a place materialized by our dreams and a vision of the simple notion of little human happiness. For freedom, tenderness, equality, harmony and love. A place that heals because the energy connection between it and us is complete and unbroken.

 Me and the fox met on the way to the healing place. The fox was honey-colored. Her muzzle was the very grace that held the curious and small head proudly upright. She was not taught to beg anyone. She also did not profess the religion of the profits that destroyed her home. She was the wisdom and the diplomacy by themselves. She was out of the robot system because she was more than that. The fox was majestic, like my ancient mirror, in which I saw myself.

We both needed to forget, to remember and to bring back life again. I settled in the front of the garden in the old house. And the fox dwelt in the back of the garden, where she turned the shed into her home in which she gave birth to her children. Our homes were surrounded by magnificent, century-old trees, shrubs, flowers and green grass. The garden had a healing effect, and the healing medications carried the names of the vegetation. Airy butterflies were dancing on the leaves, gracefully shuffled by the wind. The bees could not go around every flower that had collected the nectar of all the dead. Nectar poured on the grass and fertilized the ground. On the branches of the trees the birds built their nests and reproduced the life every spring. Their happy songs echoed the air, recalling what we were actually born for. The garden was a magical place that brought balance and harmony. It was a proof that the living energy could take many forms but could not be killed. The harmony and love filled the air season after season. It gave us roots, and wings, and freedom.

 I was lying on the grass, and my splendid female body merged with the grass and the ground. It was blending into a harmonious whole that carried a tremendous life energy that filled us with peace and harmony forever. This was our guidance to look for a new religion. A religion that prevents murder and hatred. Which is not based on profit, but on love and peaceful cohabitation. Just as in the healing garden, I and the fox have united our two worlds in the name of life.

And God allows this to happen.

Small islands of greenery try to keep on the surface above the poisonous smog and over the greed. They are our connection to life. They are our guilty conscience and shame. They are our chance to wash our hands from the blood of life we ​​kill. They are our connection with God.

And God allows this to happen.

(Elena S. Lyubenova)