Two Watchers

The Human Watcher I live near a confluence of angels. It is like a high-walled city at an ancient crossroads, where travelers drink sweet water drawn from deep wells, and sit or doze in the coolness of cedars. Then I feel the joy that eluded Gilgamesh, and enjoy the very sleep that dashed his hopes. When I awake, I carry with me bright visions. The Angel Watcher I have a question for our Creator. When he returns he will tell me which of our races he created first: his answer will tell us what we need to know. Did he start with them, realize they were too weak, and gradually swell their being into us angels, or did he find us too strong and slowly squeeze our being to their limited dimensions? The Human Watcher Gilgamesh crushed a lion in each arm hold, the life drained out of one, and then the other. Gilgamesh turned their hides into his clothes. Gods and goddesses were shocked to see him dressed in dead flesh. Then he imposed his will on nature and the world. Only Ishtar resisted but he stayed defiant. Why did he try so hard? In the end he was broken, weeping for himself, weeping for us. The Angel Watcher Sometimes it seems to us that a machine with a dogmatic sense of humor created us and them. We know there was a power before us, and higher then us. It is a knowledge buried inside of us. Will he or it return? Meanwhile, there is one among them who scans the night sky, keeps track of moonlight and sunlight, a watcher whose eyes burn with desires he cannot shape further. The Human Watcher For eons the sky has divided our races. Is it the radiance of the blue expanse or the glory of the solar orb that confers such power to those who climb in flight through corridors of light and glory in vistas. What if they shared their power, descended to live among us, blended with us in marriage and childbirth? What if a new and mighty being came into being from our union? The Angel Watcher I live above a confluence of humans, scattered across dusty plains, scorched by the sun, blasted by the wind, flooded by waters. Every bad thing that can happen to beings has happened to them. This is called the Human Condition, because no single human being experiences these things in isolation. They come like an huge ocean wave and sweep over all things impartially... How have they responded to their Human Condition? They invented music and dance to express their joy in existence, and to praise higher beings if such exist. They have composed epic poems, which summon them to accomplish ever greater things to fulfill their destinies. They write lyric poems to celebrate the arts of peace and bring the sweetness and the light into their lives, so the area of darkness diminishes AND THE LIGHT SPREADS EVERYWHERE BELOW, BESIDE AND ABOVE THEM.