Last night I dreamed of Daniel Defoe

Last night I dreamed of Daniel Defoe
in hopes he’d have some words to show
to an aimless writer who knows naught where to go,
deserted by the muse like Mr. Crusoe.

Me thinks I’ll remain here upon this isle
and sit in silence for awhile to await the return of my message vial
with words of rescue from across the kyle.

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Writer’s Block

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There is no such thing as writer’s block.

It is a myth created by those who wish to cash in by making you feel inferior and by providing endless amounts of so-called expert advice to help you to overcome your fabricated problem.

When the inevitable winter comes,
remember that it is but a season.
Do not fight the cold or the call to hibernation.
Listen to the silence that comes when there are no words.

Have faith.
They will return to you like a throng of sparrows in the spring.

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Mirror Mirror

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Mirror Mirror on the wall
Who’s the fairest of them all?

Mirror Mirror hanging there
Why the need to compare?

Mirror Mirror your truth I see
You reveal my inner beauty.

Mirror Mirror may I borrow you?
So others may see their true self too.

(Reflection from a study of the book of James)

Audio

SONG – The Spinning Hands (A Song of Time)

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It is hard to slow down when we’re running out of time.
I could never accomplish what I want in a thousand lifetimes.
I keep spinning with the world like I’m turning on a dime
and more coins in the meter won’t increase the rhyme.

It is a human construct. It is hard to believe.
How ever much time I have, I have all I need.
There is nothing I can do to stop the spinning hands
except choose to live in grace and do the best that I can.

I am but a grain of sand on the shore of eternity.
I am the smallest drop of water in the biggest sea.
But here I am in this moment in the great arc of history.
I was born for a purpose. There is only one of me.

It is a human construct. It is hard to believe.
How ever much time I have, I have all I need.
There is nothing I can do to stop the spinning hands
except choose to live in grace and do the best that I can.

So what do I do with this limited commodity?
Do I waste it in the pursuit of mediocrity?
Or do I give it away like the gift it is to be
and live within the paradox of generosity?

It is a human construct. It is hard to believe.
How ever much time I have, I have all I need.
There is nothing I can do to stop the spinning hands
except choose to live in grace and do the best that I can.

Song lyrics by Keith Lyndaker Copyright 2014 All rights reserved

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The Disappearance of EMPATHY

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E was the first to go
why I could say I don’t know
though it was plain to see
my respect did not apply to Everybody

M followed right behind
i decided it should be all Mine
a word i could call my own
i and My seemed so alone

the PATH began to disappear
overtaken by my fear
that a mile in your moccasins
might keep me with you until the end

then Y decided to go away too
what’s a lone letter supposed to do
i guess it joined the other Ys
i don’t know
i can no longer
empathize