Vanishing Point

Off in the distance, just out of sight. 
Lies my destination, in the dim light. 

There's fire in my loins with will in my might,
That I might get there, before the dark night. 

So I press on the accelerator and hold on tight,
And lose the encumbrances that hold me back. 

To outrun my rivals, on the left and the right. 
I sense that they're gaining, on the attack. 

But I don't see them, it’s just that they lack,
The skill and the power with which I fly. 

Into the vanishing point in the night sky. 
But will I get there, …before I die?

The concept of immortality in the depth of the painting

Nicolas Poussins' pastoral landscape
"Et In Arcadia Ego", 1640.

Copyright 2004 © Ronald W. Hull



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