the wings get in the way


The tale says that angels have no memory of the past. They cannot even remember that they are angels.

‘I guess that explains it,’ he says through bloodshot eyes. And, for the first time, I understand. I understand who I am, what I was meant to do, why I’ve always had vague feelings of displacement in this flat and material world. I belong in the world of shadows, the world of the nebulous ideal. I belong anywhere but here.

And I’m so scared that he may find out, that e may realize the secret I never even knew I kept. Although aliens may understand our breed, I am not even sure he wants to know, that it is time to reveal myself to the prince from Pluto. I don’t even think he understands what it is he has figured out, or what the consequences could be.

But he has touched on a part of me that had sunk below the soul, hidden within the layers of problems and arguments. He had realized that some of us do walk among the many, not even knowing where we are headed, barely remembering our purpose, never knowing our magic.

Maybe that why so many of us end up here on earth, with only slight knowledge of other-worldly powers. We forget our wings and learn to trust our instincts. None of us can remember what our orders were, why we were sent to this place, why we must feel so deeply and strongly for so many, why we must try to understand them all. We can only go where our crystal hearts lead, trying shyly to recognize others of our kind, but we are too scared to even ask.

So we blend. We try to fit ourselves into the selfish world, try to stop feeling, forget our missions. The ideal slips away, lost until we stop to think. We will do what we were sent to do, but it will be much easier without the map. We do not know our direction, we never realize what the scars mean.

We wonder why we can’t find our keys. We misunderstand, interpret the facts, try to be a friend. We get on the wrong roads, turn left at the wrong places, close our eyes at the wrong times.

We search our memories for some clue of who we are, knowing we did not really come from those dusty suburban houses/ We only know that we are not real, we do not belong. We touch, long to be touched, but know we will never truly be. Until we find others of our kind, others who forgot who they were and what their mission was, we will wander your world.


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13 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. elainedanforth
    Aug 29, 2012 @ 23:18:34

    Sorry for the earlier, sloppy erred comment. Let me try that again:

    What a great piece. A life as an angel who has forgotten their angelic nature and mission. What a sensible way to think of a human life.

    I invite you to visit my blog and see my Rally Entry at: http://elainedanforth.wordpress.com/2012/08/22/landing-like-a-cat/

    Reply

  2. Helena
    Apr 12, 2011 @ 12:28:56

    I have to admit, I’m no angel….but I treasure the thought of a world full of them – and me bumping into one….

    Reply

  3. Meghna
    Mar 30, 2011 @ 10:54:06

    Very well written….indepth….
    tnx

    Reply

  4. danroberson
    Mar 29, 2011 @ 19:53:41

    All this time I thought the confusion was just being actors, musicians, artists and writers, and those of the distracted world. Now I’m relieved to know there’s a slight possibility I’m an angel. I say slight simply because my wings didn’t fall off. They were burnt to a crisp on one of my downward plunges. But joy, if that merest of chances exist. I don’t remember exactly, but my mission, oh I forget.

    I thoroughly enjoyed your story. thanks for sharing.

    Reply

  5. Reggie
    Mar 27, 2011 @ 20:51:17

    Wow…you’re opening line sets the stage as you create a stunning image…out of place, out of mind…love it!

    Reply

  6. Vinay
    Mar 27, 2011 @ 14:09:13

    could feel a hint of poetry in the prose too 🙂 fantastic it is! thanks for sharing.

    Here’s My Poem For Poets Rally

    Reply

  7. The Lonely Recluse
    Mar 26, 2011 @ 19:27:00

    Great write, really thought provoking.
    The Lonely Recluse.

    Reply

  8. honeyhaiku
    Mar 26, 2011 @ 15:45:10

    I think this is fantastic prose. Well penned!

    Reply

  9. lunawitch15
    Mar 26, 2011 @ 15:22:10

    wandering and searching…
    i really liked this!

    Reply

  10. Jingle
    Mar 25, 2011 @ 13:45:52

    welcome…

    lovely emotions..
    happy Rally.

    Reply

  11. promising poets parking lot
    Mar 25, 2011 @ 10:39:15

    wow.
    what a write..
    fears follow us like shadows, but you can outshine it.

    A++

    Reply

  12. Jamie Dedes
    Mar 23, 2011 @ 15:13:41

    Ditto Becca.

    Reply

  13. Becca Givens
    Mar 21, 2011 @ 09:38:42

    “…We wonder why we can’t find our keys.” … “Until we find others of our kind, others who forgot who they were and what their mission was, we will wander your world.”

    Awesome ~~~

    Reply

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