Kindness is a light we share,  
A gentle hand in times of need,  
A quiet solace when hearts despair.

It blooms in moments small and rare,  
A whispered word and a thoughtful deed,  
A spark of love beyond compare.

In every soul, it finds its way,  
A bridge to heal, a wound to mend,  
A gift that brightens every day.

In this world where we all belong,  
Kindness is what makes us strong.  

A simple smile, a helping hand,  
Can spread joy across the land.

When words are gentle and actions are kind,  
Happiness we soon will find.  

With a caring heart, a listening ear,  
We make others feel valued, loved, and near.

It’s so easy to treat each person with respect,  
In love and kindness, we all connect.  

In every moment, big or small,  
Kindness is the greatest gift of all.

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 treat myself with a little more respect each day.

Treating ourselves with respect is essential for leading a happy and healthy life.

it’s too late 6.17.25 (7:00 pm / 19:00)
i can still hear your voice
still in my head
you said ‘god bless you’
you held out your hands

i’m sorry for all the things i did
i can’t imagine how it must be for you

i’m sorry i left you there
i’m sorry didn’t try to help
i’m sorry it’s far too late

i’m sorry for you and all those who carry your name
pain is universal,
i’m sorry i drew borders,
i’m sorry i didn’t know

i’m sorry i left you sitting in a wheelchair
in front of the stores
i’m sorry i left you for you to leave us

today my mother said she saw you
all the way downtown
hanging with the people doing drugs
i’m sorry

because you were one more person
really not to different from me
who could have been saved
if only
if only

we were a bit kinder

i guess it’s way too late

[playing (idk why): what dreams are made of - ballad version by paolo and isabella from the lizzie mcguire movie]

for Joscephine Gomez

I quietly closed the door behind me and stepped inside
Where several souls had preceded me.

    A painter stood by her easel by the south door,
    There was a poet seated at her desk.
    A Buddhist scholar stood before an open tome
    and a lyric soprano softly hummed her warm up patterns.

Just then another soul entered the room and asked,
“Who are these people and how did they get here.”

I answered, “they are all called Joscephine
    and they have come from the stars
    bearing gifts to heal us, encourage us
    and light our ways with kindness and wisdom.