There Is No Answer Poem by Peter S. Quinn

There is no answer
To say or do to everybody
And the hour is of create
Therefore it won't wait
There are times to be written
In open books hidden
And each for debate
So be ready to steer
Through the pile of your dreams
And become very clear
Of where everything seems
Because the time is so right
To make it hard and still resuming
A dream on its flight
With its seeds quite so blooming

Try every vision and you will
Climb the climb to the hill
And each your song there fulfill