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Poem: "Angelwings" - The Wordsmith's Forge
The Writing & Other Projects of Elizabeth Barrette
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ysabetwordsmith
Poem: "Angelwings"

Following the song "Take These Wings" by catsittingstill came a comment from siege, who wondered about Otherkin and offered to trade poems.  Here, then, is my take on that topic.  Otherkin.net has some informative articles and a wiki. See also "Of the Incarnated Angel" and "Angels & Celestials" for more detailed perspectives on angelkin.  You can find the other poems in the Fledgling Grace series via my Serial Poetry page. 

The counterpart poem is "We, the Stars" by siege.  It's a half-step away from my established canon, as it expands into other transformative experiences, but it has much the same flavor and is fascinating to read.

Angelwings


I spent my life
wishing for wings.

I remembered so clearly
what it was like to have them,
feathers trailing behind me
like a long white cloud,
floating, flying, falling through air
only to rise again.

I had always been an angel
but nobody could see,
and therefore nobody believed.

When the Fledging began,
I was one of the first people affected --
and there they were,
my lovely dove wings,
just the way I remembered.

And it was awful.

People just would not leave me alone.
They wanted to stare, to ask nosy questions,
to poke and prod and touch my pinions
without realizing that wings are very private places.

Everyone could see me for an angel
and I could get not one bit of work done.
I'd forgotten that part,
for all I'd remembered my wings --
forgotten why I'd come here in the first place.

Not to be admired.
Not to fly as I'd flown in Heaven.
But to serve.

Silly me.
How could I have forgotten
my own Purpose?
How could I have forgotten
the reason why angels
do not always reveal their wings?

There have long been those
sent to walk -- and not to fly --
secretly among mankind:

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers:
for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

As the Fledging continued,
more people gained their own wings
and ceased to marvel over mine.

The miracle of feathers
had become as common
as the miracle of birth.

I heaved a sigh of relief
that my longing for my lost wings
had not forever ruined my life's work.
I tucked my white feathers against my back
and returned to the tasks at hand,
caring for the poor and the hungry.

Some of them, some few,
looked at me and saw
that I had always been an angel --
but they smiled and said nothing of it
and I was grateful for their silence.

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7 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
mdlbear From: mdlbear Date: November 26th, 2012 03:38 am (UTC) (Link)
Do I detect a slight echo of Cat Faber's wonderful song "Wings"?
ysabetwordsmith From: ysabetwordsmith Date: November 26th, 2012 03:52 am (UTC) (Link)

Wow!

I had not encountered that song before. It does fit! Thank you for sharing.
mdlbear From: mdlbear Date: November 26th, 2012 06:38 am (UTC) (Link)

Re: Wow!

*grins* It's one of my all-time favourite songs. (Along with Don Simpson's "Ship Of Stone", Stan Rogers' "The Mary Ellen Carter", and a small number of others.) I hope you found a recording of it to listen to -- it's on one of Echo's Children's albums.
From: technoshaman Date: November 26th, 2012 04:28 am (UTC) (Link)
Perhaps it would be the same for the Merlins... people would get all wrapped up in the wings and forget to pay attention to the Words.

There is something to be said for being only *slightly* famous.... and today I have learnt *why*.
ysabetwordsmith From: ysabetwordsmith Date: November 26th, 2012 04:35 am (UTC) (Link)

Thoughts

>> Perhaps it would be the same for the Merlins... people would get all wrapped up in the wings and forget to pay attention to the Words. <<

It can happen, if you don't have the vocal aspect to get their attention back. People do go nuts over celebrities, and not everyone can talk them down. Gods know, I've had to block the door for more than one famous friend so they could get to the bathroom, or bed, or whatever. Some fans will chase without thinking.

Fame is an unfortunate side effect of success.

>> There is something to be said for being only *slightly* famous.... and today I have learnt *why*. <<

Sooth. I'm glad I could help.
paka From: paka Date: November 27th, 2012 07:24 pm (UTC) (Link)
Man, believeing yourself to be angelic Otherkin must suck. I'm glad I don't have that problem!
ysabetwordsmith From: ysabetwordsmith Date: November 27th, 2012 07:29 pm (UTC) (Link)

Well...

Any kind of Otherkin can have a rough time or an easy time. Among the salient points seem to be whether you can pass for human (if you can, it's much easier) and whether you know why you're here (if you do, it's easier). Fully cognizant angelkin are among the most comfortable. The less-aware ones are among the most miserable. When I wrote this poem, I drew on some of the established motifs and experiences for that kintype.
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