"A Call To Write" -- Poetry

What good is life if only I advance
From choices and professions that I make?
The larger hand revolves in endless dance,
Dragging all life as leaves caught by a rake.
Still why not use my time for me alone
And forge the selfish paths for which I yearn?
The problems of the world are not my own.
So often from my cries away it turns.
Yet in me there exists a restless pull
And truth reveals itself for me to share.
I must fill up these pages ‘til they’re full
And pass along this joy for more to bear.

So long as man moves closer to a fall,
So must we few accept this mighty call.

Jennifer Salamone, March 2007