observations of eternity

Photo by Sam J on Pexels

an angel is an expert without experience 
to have observed an eternity’s worth 
of human behaviors and expressions, 
to have listened to the inner thoughts 
of countless souls…
I have always wondered 
what it might be like to fly 
and read minds and walk through walls — 
to exist beyond the boundaries of time, 
to be both old and young and yet neither…
but surely the guardians of humankind 
must feel sad…
to be so close and yet so far away 
from the true intimate reality 
of mortality, of life under the sun, 
to never know the taste of coffee 
or the color of blood…
 — the fear of the end is the fear of beginnings — 
it reminded me of Mary in her white room, 
with all her knowledge of the interior workings 
and yet no essential grasp of quality…or essence…
to go from black and white to vivid color 
must be astounding — to feel hunger and lust 
for the first time, to see a hair fall out 
of one’s head, to clip a toenail and toss it 
in the trash — I don’t know if angels 
dream at night or if life on earth is their dream — 
I don’t know what it’s like to want desperately 
to be real, because I spend my days 
trying so hard to escape it…
I don’t know what it’s like to have to wait 
so very long to wake up…
the mysteries, the wonder of what sentience 
is like when unhoused by flesh — 
these are the things of poetry, 
these are best captured in the places in-between, 
the places where the goings on of mortals 
make just a brief connection 
with the spirit that is beyond our grasp

---

“Time will heal everything, but what if time is the illness?” 
—Marion, Wings of Desire

---

Garbage Notes:

This poem was inspired by the Wim Wenders film, Wings of Desire. It’s sort of a companion piece to Stereoscopic Distortions, which I wrote in response to another amazing Wim Wenders movie, Until the End of the World.

I had been meaning to watch Wings of Desire for a long time but just never managed to get around to it until this past fall. I snagged an old copy from the library and watched it in a couple of sittings.

It’s slow at first. Even boring in the first few scenes. But something about it is rather captivating, and I still found myself pulled in. It’s unlike most films. It’s unique, both visually and aurally. Minimal plot. But it draws you in with its intriguing premise, personal dialogue, and intimate cinematography.

The film puts you in the perspective of two angels who are tasked with observing humanity. These angels are both invisible and immortal. The one angel who is the main character—his name is Damiel—really wants to be human. He falls in love with a beautiful trapeze artist named Marion.

Anyway, I won’t spoil too much of the rest of it. It’s a very moving film. And it gets you really thinking about what it means to be human. You also find yourself wondering whether omniscience and immortality are all they’re cracked up to be.

We can all agree, there is a lot of suffering to being a human being. But when you view it through an angel’s eyes, life seems quite different. Refreshing even. And throughout the movie, you come to appreciate that there’s so much joy and thrill to living a finite existence.

To feel pain, to feel love, to feel fear, excitement—to feel anything really—is a blessing. When you think about it, it’s our fragility and our emotional vulnerability that makes life so colorful.

Speaking of color—the film starts out in black and white, and then turns to color as Damiel becomes human. This made me think of the Mary’s Room thought experiment about a girl locked in a black and white room for her entire life, so she knows nothing about what it’s like to see in color. But then also Mary as a name has religious connotations with Mary being the mother of Christ. And of course angels as entities figure heavily in Christian mythology.

Whether you believe in all that stuff or not, I wanted to capture in my poem the deep contemplative aspects of humanity. Especially when it comes to our perceptions of life and death, self and other, and all boundaries in between.

Though it may feel like it’s a burden to experience all the misery we share from birth to death, when you take the perspective of someone who might actually envy the beauty of such an existence, it really makes you appreciate what you have in this temporary life on Earth.

So is time itself the illness? Maybe so. But it’s all about perspective.

---

Franco Amati 2024

If you enjoyed this piece, a paid subscription would be the best way to show your support. But if you aren’t ready for that sort of commitment yet, you can always send me a one-time donation on my Ko-fi page.