Adam Fieled (Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania, USA): "Wayfaring Angel"
Visions of jungle, elephants doze;
tigers are slumberous, spiders repose
before any human can frighten their nose.
She’s on a bender, peyote & grass;
spirits defend her, karma amassed;
astonishing yogis, the head of her class.
The temple was gold, ceiling a dome;
hid in the hills, she found me alone;
a wayfaring straggler, rough skin & bone.
Struggle like death, hours went on;
run out of breath, night into dawn;
entwined in a web— consummation— then gone.
She was still high, I watched her evoke
Gods of the jungle, deities spoke
exhorting this princess, before she awoke
to lead me to reason, why she was here;
guide me past shyness, chide me past fear;
bedraggle not ever what must be made clear.
How I was chosen, she tried to explain;
clipped not by coyness, confusion, or pain;
yet all I could see was her flesh in my brain—
solid like marble, snow-white & smooth,
I placed my hands on, couldn’t remove
while she dealt the dharma, was peaking to prove
that now she’d achieved this peak of her dream;
now what was woven wouldn’t show seams;
the Wayfaring Angel I’d been was her means.
© Adam Fieled 2020-2025
The ballad Wayfaring Angel appeared originally in Otoliths 57 in 2020.
tigers are slumberous, spiders repose
before any human can frighten their nose.
She’s on a bender, peyote & grass;
spirits defend her, karma amassed;
astonishing yogis, the head of her class.
The temple was gold, ceiling a dome;
hid in the hills, she found me alone;
a wayfaring straggler, rough skin & bone.
Struggle like death, hours went on;
run out of breath, night into dawn;
entwined in a web— consummation— then gone.
She was still high, I watched her evoke
Gods of the jungle, deities spoke
exhorting this princess, before she awoke
to lead me to reason, why she was here;
guide me past shyness, chide me past fear;
bedraggle not ever what must be made clear.
How I was chosen, she tried to explain;
clipped not by coyness, confusion, or pain;
yet all I could see was her flesh in my brain—
solid like marble, snow-white & smooth,
I placed my hands on, couldn’t remove
while she dealt the dharma, was peaking to prove
that now she’d achieved this peak of her dream;
now what was woven wouldn’t show seams;
the Wayfaring Angel I’d been was her means.
© Adam Fieled 2020-2025
The ballad Wayfaring Angel appeared originally in Otoliths 57 in 2020.

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