Is it growing or being pushed?
	From my vantage point I cannot say.
	You see I can only see
	this view before me
	not the one
	yonder.
	It simply moves
	steadily
	readily
	caught headed
	in one direc
	tion:
	forward, West, higher, perfec
	tion.
	Lineage without
	cleft
	an origin not
	bereft
	circumstances laid bare
	to the degree I can see
	without being privy
	to inner forces I'm unaware;
	this truth that drives
	a choice I'm deprived
	until the one impelled is
	myself
	only then I can answer the question:
	Am I growing or being pushed?
Copyright 1997 John Feissel. All rights reserved.