A View of a Trip to Kashmir

I'm exhausted out of my mind, but can't quite get to sleep - too much caffeine in my system, still pumped up from the adrenaline rush from reading yesterday, frustrated because a couple of poems I've been working on just won't materialize.  As I was listening to my iPod, Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir," began to play.

This is an excellent version of "Kashmir," from, "No Quarter: Jimmy Page & Robert Plant Unledded."

Page & Plant perform with the London Metropolitan Orchestra and Hossam Ramzy's Egyptian Ensemble.

As soon as the song began, I heard this poem in my head almost like someone was reading it to me.  Why is it what one wants is so elusive, but what one needs comes so easily?

Oh, I am flying,
I am flying,
I am flying,
at the sight of you.
You are the sun upon my face.
You are thoughts inside my dreams.

And I cannot breathe,

cannot breathe,
cannot breathe,
as you appear;
it is like the air is filled with sand.
That dust that floats high
and all I see is your aura
your golden brown,
golden brown,
golden brown….

How can you be?

What can you be?
You cannot be.

You are Shangri-La

and I do not know you,

yet I want to know you,
have to know you,
but I have no provision.

You are a mirage.
I am merely an open face.

Still I want to slip away with you,

need to slip away with you,
feel you slip away,
let you lead me to that place
beyond the summer moon.
I want the sounds you create to caress my ears.
I want to be exotic, like Kashmir, to you.
I want you to fill my sails,
take me down open roads…
 
I want you to take me there.
Take me there.
Take me there….
 
You cannot be what you seem.

You are Shangri-La.

You could burn me to the ground.

Turn me with your touch to brown…
your calling, captivating golden brown,
golden brown,
golden brown….

When I see you move,
I feel you move,
feel you as you move
through time and space,
time and space,
time and space.
I want to move with you.

But I cannot go.
I cannot go.
Cannot go.

I am only an open face.

I have no way to understand you.

Understand why you
have me flying,
have me flying,
have me flying,
though I have never heard a word from you.

You are beyond me,

as though you are my elder.

I do not know if I can
relate to your words,
but somehow I know you can
take me there,
take me there,
take me there.

I have never found where you’ve been

You leave no trace.
You are thoughts inside my dreams.
You have not revealed who you are.

You are Shangri-La.

(c) 2011 – Tracey Morris, All Rights Reserved. Poem contains elements of “Kashmir,” written by Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, and John Bonham.

The Wave, sculpted by Camille Claudel, 1897. Musee Rodin, Paris