Strange and Silent Hands
(After the film, 'Wings of Desire,' by Wim Wenders)
The angel was quiet, unseen, felt; stood
over me as I read my book. The world
was filled with an impatient fluttering.
He said not a thing, but he spoke to me
as I turned pages, rapt in the attention
of his unworldly bright language. The books
watched us, voices from their pages
waiting to be read, 'Please, me; please, me.'
It was not a mouth I felt, but a breath
and gentle solemnity. He bent to me. I kept
reading and the angel watched. Vigilant, touched
back by me, he my sentry and I his common man.
I shuddered. This is how we are chosen
by strange and silent hands.
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Author's Note
Film as inspiration for a poem.
Other stories by Philip F. Clark
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He bent to me. I kept
reading and the angel watched. Vigilant, touched
back by me, he my sentry and I his common man.
I shuddered. This is how we are chosen
by strange and silent hands.
Love the ending, especially. Fabulous. *
Excellent work.
Beautiful scene.
Your poem captures the spare and hushed library scenes in Wenders' powerful film. Especially like- "This is how we are chosen / by strange and silent hands."
A good read.
Thank you, all.
"This is how we are chosen
by strange and silent hands."
Wonderful *
"This is how we are chosen
by strange and silent hands."
****
I felt this a line or two before I read it.
Agree with the others on the excellent last line. The entire poem has a lightness and ease that I like very much. *
Excellent work.
Oh, that last line!
The angel was quiet, unseen...
The beauty of angels is that they are "unseen."
Strange and Silent Hands might be a title to consider.*
Really nice last line.
Yes, the last line, but also "The world
was filled with an impatient fluttering." And the books, ("Please, me; please, me".)I like how, as with the narrator, they too are waiting to be chosen.
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