Silver speckled specks sprinkle the night sky
Spectacular sparks
Spots of light, flying by

A meteor shower

I stare up at the sight
Lying in a quiet field
The cities light far in the distance
Delighting in the darkness
A portal to another dimension often hidden
Paradoxically, a reality obscured by light
Away from the truth the light reveals
I now relish in the truth of the dark
The view of the night sky
A portal to the past
Yet also to the present

Back supported by the cool, firm earth
My visual field consumed
Filled with infinity
I soon realize
Here, now, in this moment
I have no head

Where my head should be
Is the night sky
Myriad stars and the endless space between

When juxtaposed to infinity
Actual, immeasurable infinity
Even my stubborn ego
Cannot keep up the fight
I dissolve into the night
And each gleaming point of light
Sometimes streaming across so bright
A glorious glint
On a short fated flight
Undertaken anyway
Without even a hint
Of spite


Each ephemeral illumination
Mirrors the spark of creation
The egoic conflagration
This meandering mentation
Of thought
Pure invention
Now caught
My attention
Now an ought
Instead of is

Rumination replaces reality
In between the stars and me
Not physical, still I cannot see
My attention follows helplessly

Infinity recedes
Thought impedes
Advice I do not heed
A voice I do not need

As suddenly as it began, it disappears
The thought vanished, my mind clears
Again I have no head
My bed is the earth
My view is infinite
Each star a blazing hearth
Billions giving birth to light across the galaxy
In this small piece that I can see
I peacefully float
In infinity
No self at all
No head to call my own
I make the world my home

Hope.
A word that floats in the back of my mind
As emotions ebb and flow.

Hope.
When everything feels so unknown;
When seasons come and go.

Hope.
A feeling in my belly,
Like the flutter of a butterfly.

Hope.
The promise for a new tomorrow.
The steadfast love between you and I.

Hope.
When there's nothing left to do,
But surrender.

Hope.
The piece of puzzle in life that will help us
Make it through this time together.

Hope.
More than just a word or flutter;
The only thing I can cling to now.

Hope.
A gentle and sweet reminder,
We'll make it through somehow.

Hope.
For today and for tomorrow,
And just for right now.

Hope.

©KSS 4/2020

Whimsical as it may seem
I still find myself
Getting lost in a daydream.
I look up, and look around.
Beauty surrounds.
Life gets hard sometimes,
That will always be true.
But I have found
Joy in the mundane.
I've learned how to breathe
Through the pain and anxieties.
To live mindfully.
What does it mean to
Daydream now?
To find peace in
Doing nothing—
Except watching the
Clouds.
©KSS 8/2020

Blurring lines between unfounded angst
and foreshadowed grief to act upon
in crippled joy, or ignore chancing loss!

A bridge to cross, a path slowed
from months to days to minutes,
drops suspended in wonder, in gratitude.

Losing grip, claws out.

I’m OK, you’re OK
That’s how I’m gonna start today
A neutral position to drive through
The brilliant feeling of new me, new you

I’m OK, you are not Ok
This isn’t going to end well
I can tell, you fell

I’m not OK, you are OK
I give in it’s yours to take
Let’s hope your path is not a mistake
Let’s hope my news is truly fake


I’m not OK, you are not OK
The worst position of all
Ok fine I hear you
Let’s end this call

Inside of every line there is a meaning hard to find
A moment of the mind
A breath of sacred life
A body not to bind
A sharpness like a knife
Pure attention
Not a weapon, but slicing through each second
Severing summoned notions
With smooth motions
Leaving only seamless being
Flowing like an ocean
Coming and going
The ebb and flow
Of life under the light
No longer lost in night
Now caught in perfect sight
For but a moment
Where the flow went
Before returning to the sea
To effervescent infinity
With equanimity
You are here with me
Flowing
Like the ocean

what the cat understands
whether he knows that he understands it
or not is that in everything
there can be newness

I do not know when he does most
of his sleeping,
but I watch each morning
as he greets the house,
lifting his nose up to everything
familiar in order to remember
where he is

he traces each surface
with his paws
wanders around and around
until he lays and falls
asleep, then again
waking with the same
dedication to discovery

he sits in the same windowsill
every day, looking out
at the same things,
concerning himself only
with the present