“Full”
When I fill up my memory
Like the bin of oats, I now can see
It overflows so much is lost
Abundance, though, reduces cost.“So get her down on paper, man
Don’t try to carry in your can
Some concept, insight, scrap of yarn
Or character for novel’s farm.“Just capture it, then file it right
Cross-index keeps the options tight
Against like notes for future use
So you can think without excuse.”My binders, files, computer notes
Accomplish this – through years it bloats
So now it covers floor with stuff
Twelve inches deep, with chunking rough.That’s not that bad – “Thick files” are good
For inter-actions, tumbled, could
Give rise to serendipity –
New story-lines which flow through me.But then again, those empty shelves
Seem lighter here as now I delve
Into my bins encaptured mass
And ponder what to do – alas –I’ve only just one decade left
To use or dump this stuff – I check
It to be sure it still has use;
It does – so gone is that excuse.Lord, what to do? O’er flowing cup
Makes mess on floor – do what with stuff
That now encumbers? “It’s the flow
That they once stopped – now out it goes.For now you’re on the Kingdom-layer –
No blockage stops enacted prayer
Just let ’er rip – techniques emerged
For you to act, not be submerged –“So much backlog – you used the time
To mine for ore, not be inclined
To sit around, bemoan your state;
So give ’er hell – don’t hesitate.“You’ve so much grist for writing mill –
Assemble, chunk; you do so well
At telling stories, let ‘er rip
So folks are blessed by Me through it.”Okay, Lord, thanks for this.
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