Poem: Call Me

I am working on putting together a collection of poetry by the end of this year (which is an awful lot of editing). I keep working a poem to a certain point and then realizing that it just isn't good. Grrrrr. Here is one from this semester that I like certain bits of but not the whole.

Please Don’t Call Me

I am always climbing out
of tunnels that I am supposed
to fall down not
in the rabbit-hole sense
but in the sense
of an irreversible  journey.
I like my choices to be
reversible, like cars,
but God designed callings
like bicycles.
You can’t really roll backwards
up that hill again.
And I am told that this is good,
because who wants to go back up
that which you were afraid
to go down in the first place?
Me. Always.
I remember it as better,
back there.