Egor Cherkasov: Luke Howard, you were right!
Luke Howard, you were right! We’ve lost a big God- the Messiah, the one who led us along the way. He disappeared in front of us like an absurdity or our invention, like an illusion. Not daring to control us He left us, pure and free. Only a little God remained, the God of each of us. He's simple and clear, but small and invisible, like the truth in your musical works, Luke. People want another God who will match their vanity and wealth. But they do not find Him. And the little god laughs at them and points to a simple essence of things. He is quiet and wise.
I got up in the morning and wished with all my heart not to lose the little god, who curled up in a fluffy lump under the heart of mine. I suddenly remembered that I had finally heard Him ... After all, even stones can hear! It's like hearing your small, limpid and clear motives, Luke.
I blessed the sunrise and the new day to enter me with the truth. Then I made and hung up a new birdhouse, and put some grain into it. And right then the birds from all over the world came and sat down onto my arms. They sang their psalms for me until the lunchtime.
I melted the stove and saw my reflection and the mission of mine in a piece of simple birch bark. The fire rose up with thousands of sparks of desires and hopes. Yesterday's newspaper burned well. The fire consumed it at once and did not leave any opportunity to it to go down in history as something eternal. So it is. Then I hit the road and met a wanderer who gave me a new sense when I handed him a piece of bread, that was better than building temples in which no one comes for praying.
I'll be back at sunset. I left here to find the small meanings of little and joyful gods. You were right, Luke. I tell you that again and again. A little God ... don't scare him away! He does not need rending ideas and global upheavals. You know it is not necessary even the lilacs under your window and the birds that’s sitting on your hands, Luke, while you’re playing for them.
Every creation is looking for a little god now, Luke. For a simple god that’s nestled close to us and is so warm and kind, like a memory of Mom, her arms and hugs, and a woolen shawl of hers...
Yegor Cherkasov is a Russian writer, educator, and literary editor actively engaged in international cultural exchange and literary collaboration. He has participated as a speaker in the International Gorky Literary Festival (2023–2025) and has contributed to literary and educational initiatives across Russia, India, Serbia, Indonesia, and the United Arab Emirates. In 2025, he served as Russia’s coordinator for the international literary and pedagogical project *Balakavi Poets* in Kerala, India, and authored a scholarly article on the V. M. Terekhov Memorial in India.
His literary, artistic, and educational achievements have received international recognition, including awards and honorary distinctions from Serbia, Indonesia, Bulgaria, and the UAE. In 2026, he was recognised at Art Expo in Abu Dhabi and received a special diploma at the International Literary Competition Slavic Word in Bulgaria. He currently serves as Deputy Editor-in-Chief for External and Internal Communications of the literary magazine Arina–NN. His work reflects a strong commitment to literature, education, and intercultural dialogue.
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