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If you are afraid to die
Then you are not ready

A person is like a light bulb
The light comes from within

Death extinguishes light
from the outside in

But the live wires of life
will still remain

Waiting on someone to turn the switch on again

Death pats itself on the back but then

Life puts the dagger into
it's empty hand
In the depths of depression,  
when the world feels heavy,  
a small gesture,  
a warm smile,  
can lift the weight.  

Offer a hand,  
share a moment,  
plant a seed of kindness  
in someone else's heart.  

In giving, we find light,  
as the darkness loosens its grip,  
and together,  
we rise,  
woven in the simple threads  
of compassion.
I've found that when I'm feeling EXTREMELY depressed it really helps to first, list out loud 12 things I'm thankful for (anything from my bed, to my parents, friends, roof over my head...a person could list hundreds if you thought hard enough) also I try to think of something nice to do for someone. Anyone. I've found it sometimes more rewarding to anonymously bless someone. I dunno, if you can use these suggestions to your benefit, than please do...it seriously helps me, at least for a while, when I'm extremely low. 🤷
There comes a time in life
when you start letting go for peace.
Relationships. Wealth. Power. Style. Food.
And in the quiet, you find yourself.
the moon has died in a poem
overused and forlorn
its avatar is rising
in blazig pixels and scorn

we are at this threshold
one foot in the moon
the subtelty of dying will be
presented on Zoom

Godot isn't coming but
I am waiting too
i don't know how old i was, 8 or 10.

I climbed out the window
onto the roof of the garage.

it was summer.

I lied down
and gazed at the stars for hours.

i reached to touch moonbeams,
and with my finger
drew a circle around the north star.

i dissolved into the hush of stars
free of want or need.

a single heart beat.
I, the wind, moon, stars.

I long to lie on the roof, again,
gaze at the stars
and filled with wonder.
Life seems to be dark,
with no hope
of light.
Dreams are more
beautiful
than
real life.

With my
weeping heart,
dipped
in the blood of
sorrow,
the petals of a
flower shed,
and what’s
left behind —
is the
dryness of sadness.
pain in our heart always brakes the person mantle heath


Birds perched by, quaking upon branch or limb
They heard not my aching, but sang out for Him
Unwitting avians cried, crooning flowering grief
Shaking land and sky, swaying bough and leaf

Sweet somber tune a cloud astride cold wind
Fleet wandered moon and bowed aside for Him
Breathless hush broken, lark tongue arose in
Reckless rush for halcyon star hung frozen

Revelation brightly opined, did thus impart to me
Creation's peace divine; That I, though apart from thee
Stood in presence of love, and by starry sight knew
Good luminescence held above, the same I hold for you


©2025 Jason R. Michie All Rights Reserved
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