White lines,
Bright lights,
Converging parallels
Aligning my perspective with infinity;
Arrows aiming me at an insubstantial eternity,
Hanging,
Disconcertingly inevitable,
Barely a heartbeat,
Hardly a hairsbreadth,
The other side of the vanishing point.

Then; well, then it would be
The other end of Alice’s hole;
The me in the mirror;
The meeting the Maker:
The me or
Not me.


It was all too easy to imagine the imagery:
The what should bes,
The what just might bes;
It was all beginning to fall into place on paper:
But then the runway fell away,
The vanishing point I could no longer see
And I was,
Well,
Still me.


(Written on take off at Luton....)

Tony Jolley

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/vanishing-point-7/