Draw me out like a fern unfurling and I will tell you of the leaves beneath my skin; that I spend the night planning the paths of my roots and the places that my hungry fingers will know; that I keen into the sky for light and beg the clouds for rain-- and how I believe and I hope and I have to believe that I am more than the crawling ground that I started with-- how even if I am only ivy I've vowed to climb so high the birds will wonder at my leaves. I just want to grow-- is that so much? I furl again in the night.



















