stretching, striving

to reach heights greater than

those of who have gone before.

Upward yet outward

my fingers grasp for every

opportunity, possibility

to progress and improve

myself, my world

But still

I am searching

inward, downward

to find out

what I am, what makes me me

maybe even answer why I am here

It seems funny though

for I grow

outward and inward, oppositely

although not in conflict, somehow

I grow.

Yielding to pressures seen and not,

I grow.

Adapting yet not conforming,

I grow.

Fall 1990