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Warm Stones of the Talking River
Author: Sergey Veretennikov
Publication date: 18 September 2025
Publication date: 18 September 2025
CONTENTS:
- Awakening
- Trust
- The Question
- Warmth from Within
- Signs of Love
- Imagination
- Unity
Audio accompaniment:
CHAPTER I
The First Step — Awakening
He sat on the riverbank.
He was not waiting or searching—he simply was.
The air gently stirred the space,
like the breath of a world in love.
The wind touched his cheeks,
played with his hair,
whispered something without words—
everything was as always...
The water flowed as always.
The birds flew as always.
And the stone beneath his palm was just as cold
as always.
But within this “as always,”
something suddenly opened that was “for the first time.”
The birds flying in the sky were not simply flying—
they seemed to be tracing invisible letters across the sky,
as though someone were writing a letter
on an enormous sheet of sky.
Writing for a long time.
Writing only for those who knew how to read with their hearts.
And suddenly he felt:
the river was ink,
the wind was the breath of the invisible Writer,
and the silence around him was an ellipsis,
so that he could think
and begin reading on.
He did not hurry to stand.
He watched the current carry the reflections of the clouds,
and thought: perhaps everything around him was a book,
and every page of it was being written right now.
Then awakening—
was not new knowledge,
but the ability to read what
had always been written.
And suddenly he heard it.
Something quiet, something pleasant.
It was a call.
One that made no sound.
Yet, for some reason, could be heard.
He did not know who had called him.
But he understood:
if the call had been heard—
the journey had already begun...
CHAPTER II
The Second Step — Trust
He walked along the path and felt:
the earth beneath his feet was not merely soil.
It was like a palm
that held him,
even when he himself did not know where he was going.
The wind touched his shoulder.
He turned around—no one was there.
But something sounded within him:
“Go. You do not need to know everything in advance.”
The soul took its second step—trust.
It was not trust in circumstances.
Not in other people’s words.
It was trust in the idea
that the world was an extension of himself.
He raised his gaze to the sky.
There were stars there, thousands of lights,
that seemed to say to him:
“You are not alone.
You are part of a great breath.
You are part of a mystery,
in which the question is more important than the answer.”
He stopped.
His heart beat gently,
as though listening to music
that was calling him onward.
He did not know who was playing it.
But he felt
that somewhere far away,
someone was waiting
for him to go—right now.
As though someone invisible
had extended a hand to him—not demanding proof,
but simply reminding him:
“I am near.”
He did not know whose presence it was—
God’s,
the world’s,
or that of the one
he had not yet met.
This someone asked him:
“Are you ready to go, are you ready to trust?”
And he knew that the only way to answer this question was
to set out.
Thus the soul took its second step.
Not because the path was clear.
On the contrary—there was nothing in it that he had known before,
and yet there was something wonderfully familiar in it.
CHAPTER III
The Third Step — The Question
He continued on.
And no longer listened warily to the sounds along the way.
It seemed to him that now the road itself
was listening to him.
He increasingly felt
that he was not merely a traveler.
He was an invited guest.
As though someone had been waiting for him in advance.
As though the path knew his name.
Sometimes he stopped.
He listened.
Not to the sounds—
but to the pauses between them.
In those pauses lived a silence
that seemed full of meaning.
And one day he could bear it no longer—and asked.
Not aloud.
And not in his thoughts.
He asked with his heart:
“Who are you?”
Who is calling me?
Who is speaking to me,
without saying anything?
He did not expect a sign.
He did not expect a voice from the sky.
He simply waited.
As one waits for the breath of someone nearby,
in the darkness,
when you love someone,
and want to tell them everything—everything you are feeling right now...
And therefore remain silent.
He did not know whom he was asking this question.
But he knew—
if the question had arisen,
then
Someone exists who will answer it.
And the question itself had already become a prayer.
And the path itself
began to sound like the beginning of an answer.
And all of it was like an endless song:
“Look at me.
I was created to bring you joy.
And you were created to rejoice together with me.”
He smiled at the world.
And the world smiled back at him
with light slipping through the clouds.
CHAPTER IV
The Fourth Step — Warmth from Within
He received no answer.
There were still no words.
There was no revelation.
He walked—
and felt
that he was no longer led by the question.
He was led by someone who had prompted him to ask questions.
Someone who had known the way even before
he took his first step.
Something tender,
unfamiliar,
but very much alive
began to unfold within him.
As though someone had placed a warm palm on his chest—
without words,
without demands,
and did not remove it.
The stones at the side of the path lay not chaotically,
but as though forming a pattern.
A bird took flight at the very moment
he thought of something.
And even the clouds gathered in such a way
as though the sky were speaking to him.
He could not explain it.
And he did not try.
But he felt
that everything had become attentive.
As though the world had ceased to be a background
and begun to participate.
Even his own feelings
became different, as though coming from nowhere.
He caught within himself a sadness
that came from nowhere,
sorrow, joy, longing for love—
and then all these feelings were replaced by a warm certainty
that someone, somewhere,
was thinking of him right now.
And this gave him confidence
that his question had already begun to receive an answer.
He listened to himself
and understood:
the heart knows how to preserve warmth,
even when the world seems cold.
The heart knows how to forgive,
even when no words have been spoken.
The heart knows how to love,
even when no one has asked it to.
CHAPTER V
The Fifth Step — Signs of Love
Things that had previously gone unnoticed
suddenly became important.
He did not know where it had come from.
Perhaps from the many nights spent in silence,
perhaps from that very gaze from the sky,
which he had not seen,
but had felt.
But he began to notice....
He noticed someone offering a hand to an old man.
A child picking up a fallen leaf—
as though it were a treasure.
A woman in a shop
smiling for no reason.
These were simple things.
Nothing “lofty.”
But they shone.
Not from the outside—from within.
He saw people.
They walked along their own roads,
each in their own silence,
each in their own thoughts.
And suddenly he felt:
their joy was more important to his heart
than his own.
Someone’s child burst into laughter.
Someone held the hand of the one they loved.
Some strangers walked down the street and talked about simple things—
and all of it was a miracle.
He understood:
Love always remains silent.
It simply is present—
in the way you hold a cup of tea,
in the way you do not interrupt,
in the way you let go of someone you love deeply when you know it will be better for them.
He watched—and could not judge.
He saw not mistakes,
but light that had not yet unfolded.
He heard not words,
but hearts that wanted to sing.
At that moment his soul began to sound,
like quiet music.
And it seemed that the world itself was playing a melody,
in which every note was someone’s happiness.
And the world began to answer him with love.
The bench in the park always kept one place free—for him.
The birds sang precisely when
he was thinking about meaning.
And even the rain fell,
not interfering, but accentuating everything.
CHAPTER VI
The Sixth Step — Imagination
He sat quietly on a bench.
There was no wind.
There were no words.
There was only inner space,
so vast that it breathed with stars.
And there, in the depths, something opened.
The eyes of the soul—
like a door into infinity.
These eyes do not look—they create with their gaze.
They create from particles of existence.
From the love of the One who calls eternally.
And eternally remains a mystery.
And when everything comes together,
the world is born anew—
in him, through him, for everyone.
He smiled and understood:
now he could love the whole world as simply
as smiling at a passerby.
For everything he saw—
was a reflection of his imagination,
and everything imagination gave birth to
became reality.
He looked at a passing person—
and saw not merely a body, not merely a face.
He saw someone’s Path, someone’s Story, someone’s Dream...
He saw that every person was a picture.
A picture,
that was not yet complete,
and the brush was still in someone’s hand.
He did not know who held that brush—
whether the person themselves,
or Love,
or God,
imagining us all in every moment.
And in this thought there was perfect joy.
Because if the world was a canvas,
then everything could be changed.
Everything could be painted over.
Even one’s own destiny.
He closed his eyes—
and imagined himself as light,
walking among people
and simply warming them.
Not changing them.
Not demanding anything.
But simply—imagining in every person
the possibility of being light as well.
And the path ahead seemed to grow brighter,
like a line that had just been completed.
CHAPTER VII
The Seventh Step — Unity
He walked along a forest path.
Leaves rustled beneath his feet,
small twigs snapped.
Every sound was part of life,
every tree rustled its leaves for a reason.
And suddenly he understood:
he was not walking through the world.
He was walking together with it.
He had never been a guest here.
He had only thought he was...
Without noticing, he found himself once again beside the very same river.
Everything returns.
He stopped beside the running water.
Beside those stones that no longer remained silent.
Beside those birds in the sky that wrote him letters of love.
Every moment.
Never stopping.
He sat by the bank and closed his eyes.
The stone beneath his hand was no longer cold.
It was warmed by his inner warmth.
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