Reflections of My Heart: Palate of Purity

It was now one year later, 1987. A Friday night in November. I had graduated college and accepted a freelance job teaching chair aerobics at the Beverly Hills YMCA.

Yes, you might ask. How can a person with one arm teach aerobics? Well, I did.

Initially, I taught adults with Parkinson’s, but then I was asked to teach another class—a 4:30 in the morning class for middle-aged and older adults.

Me. Right? Who would have thought?

So I taught with my smile and my light. Through music, laughter and sheer joy, I taught them to love themselves through exercise. Just as Al Gilbert helped me, I wanted to help others shine and forget everything else while engaged in physical activity. To share my happiness with them, to be that example and light, and to show them it could be done, that anyone could have fun and enjoy themselves through laughter and movement, no matter what their disabilities—this was my goal. I wanted to illustrate what exercise could do for anyone with or without a physical disability.

What does this have to do with the poem? Everything.

After coming home from the 4:30 class that morning, I straightened up my home and got in several hours of writing on one of the poems in this book. For me, writing had become a part of my life. It was something I did on a regular basis, because I not only loved it then and love it now, but I recalled how, as a young woman of eighteen, I couldn’t even write a letter by myself.

When that evening came, I was eager to do more than just sit around. Besides, it was a weekend night, and I was ready to dance the night away.

I was so full of energy and enthusiasm that I primped and fussed over myself. I got all dolled up with my hair, my makeup, and my lipstick just right. I twirled around the floor, looking into the full-length mirror, seeing this young woman ready to dance. Me!

With my outfit on point, I was ready to walk out the door and drive the thirty miles round trip to the square dance at the TRW building in El Segundo, where they built satellites. I double checked myself in the mirror by the front door and dazzled myself with my smile.

I walked out the front door, down the stairs, opened the car door, and off I drove.

Thirty minutes later, I arrived. I parked my car and headed towards the hall where the square dance queueing would start.

After two rounds of dancing, a man came up to me. He was very good looking, with sandy blond hair. He asked me to dance. I accepted. He was so nice that, to the end of the night, I danced every dance with him. We talked and exchanged telephone numbers as he do-si-doed me to my car.

I not only wrote this poem about my feelings for him, but we have been married for 37 years.

PALATE of PURITY

For years, I’ve lived with hopes and dreams
Wishes and wants
An inspiring word
A response or
A gentle smile from some divine soul
Sent from above.

A day,
A week,
A year,
Twenty have passed,
But I always knew
In my heart that there would be a kindred spirit,
A soul in tune
With mine!

Then one day
I heard a sweet melodic sound,
A constellation crossing
In the midst of my path,

Weightlessness
Which took me by surprise
Engraving a mark
Indelibly on my life.

We knew from the first,
We felt it deep within
Which washed our palate,
With a purity and reprise
Resilient
Elastic
And Buoyant from all woes

Now, nothing can touch us
Nothing at all
Not a care in the world
Can come between us
Nothing but you and me
To climb the staircase way on high.

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Never Giving In

Image of woman flexing her arm and caption reading We Can Do It!

One afternoon in May 1985, I had done my classes and chores for the day. Graduation was coming soon, so it was time to reflect, retreat, and take refuge, time to go to that quiet, secluded place where I could relax, and take a moment for myself and my mental well-being.

While sitting on my couch, with no interruptions, I reviewed my life and the series of events that challenged me to grow until I became the person I wanted to be. Certain mental images and positive convictions shaped me. They defined me. They transformed my being, molding me into this person I’ve worked so hard to become.

When I think back on that spring day, when a light of hope and joy appeared, bringing happiness and contentment, filling what had felt like an empty space in my soul, filling my heart. Something I succeeded at by pouring every effort into it.

Throughout those college years, I found my voice, my self-confidence, and a self-worth that no one could ever take away. The reason I fought as hard as I did was because that became my purpose in life—to live, to breathe, to exist, and to give back to the world unconditionally.

“I can do this!” I told myself. “No one is going to label me and call me a retard. No one! I am going to beat this system.”

Gratitude came to mind, gratitude for giving myself the strength, courage, and confidence to keep moving forward, especially in controlling my life’s journey and claiming my right as a person with disabilities to dignity and respect.

I was immensely grateful for my willingness, for my fortitude, for my determination to stay the course and achieve my goals and dreams, to leap over every hurdle blocking my path. Thus, giving thanks for all the experiences I faced and took on, I kept going over and over my life’s experiences. I struggled to believe I had accomplished all that I had.

How empowering, powerful, and life altering for that little infant who was going to be deaf, dumb, and blind, according to the doctors.

That little girl, who wore a full length leg brace, even learned to dance. I learned to read and write with dyslexia, and learned what 2 + 2 equaled. I threw away my leg brace at age eleven—never to wear it again.

Because of my grit and determination, and dance lessons with Al Gilbert, this all became possible, including taking on the system, and winning a civil rights case for my own education and for everyone else in this world. I rejected all critics, objectors, and people who tried to disrupt my life’s path and deter me from my destination. I rose above them all, vowing to be better than what they deemed or considered possible for me to become. It was time for me to accept all that I had mastered and manifested.

You see, I wanted to become the best person my mama Katie always wanted me to be. Therefore, I did everything in my power to open the doors for myself, and for others, too. Simply to fit into a world that didn’t accept me. Thank you, Mama.

Never Giving In

Maybe I can learn
To read
To write
And to spell someday

And when tomorrow comes
The trumpets will blow their horns.

For that day will be glorious
As all the effort,
And all the long hours of devotion and dedication
Of hard work, well done,
Will be reality.

My dream
Will have come to pass
I will be at one
I will be united
I will be at peace with my heart’s desire
Never again drifting into defeat!

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Song

I have taken many a walk in my lifetime, although nothing like the walk I took that day back in 1993.

It was a beautiful spring day in April. Alone, feeling free and at one with myself, I walked beneath the palm trees and blue sky, but as I strolled, my peace and calm faded. Even though ten years had passed since I wrote the poem I posted last week, the one about the gray-fisted cloud and my inner critic, another instance of unfair criticism had awakened him.

The feeling that arose unsettled me, which was unusual because I am a cheerful person by nature. Thus, I knew something was going on down deep inside me.

I came to a park bench, sat down, and listened carefully. I stilled my body and mind so I could hear what my beating heart was telling me, but instead, pain arose in my body and mind. Agony. Intense struggle. Distress. Not just sorrow, but grief.

The wind shook me to my core, once again reviling me with powerful, controlling emotions I didn’t want to face. But I did, guided by the force of nature. For the evolution of good to better myself.

Being outside calms my soul and spirit. It makes me feel at one with nature and quiets the critical voices with their derogatory remarks, and helps me fight positively, rather than defiantly or defensively.

Once again, writing a poem healed me. Nature and poetry heal. Nature is always there for us. Poetry is our human way of responding to nature’s love.

Song

The wind is blowing,
And as I look within
I look outside of myself
To view the stillness and
The quiet pondering
Of my heart’s deepest content.

The wind blows with much strength
And I,
I see glimpses of weakness.
Weakness all around,
Weakness of my past.
Weakness in others,
Weakness in the things we say and do.

So I reach out to nature,
Oh, what a nature!

A nature that hears me,
A nature that sees me,
A nature that feels the beating of my heart,
And which is all-powerful!
It’s a silent solitude
Which sings to me
Like the birds soaring in flight,
Like the chirping of their call,
When they call at my front door.

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Must It Be?

Photo of cumulonimbus cloud over the Baltic Sea

On a cold, gray day in March 1983, I left my last class of the afternoon at Santa Monica Community College, the academic community in which I had taken refuge, where I sought validation and redemption. But, above me, a cloud formed, gray, cold, dark, shaped like a fist, clenched for attack, its knuckles terrifying me to my core.

Why did it terrify me, you might ask? It was just a spring cloud drifting in from the Pacific, the peaceful ocean, and nothing to worry about. But it shook me to my core with a series of unexpected, irregular movements, punching left and right, like a boxer delivering body blows and destroying an opponent from the inside out. In my gut, a groundswell wave churned as I ran to my car, my paralyzed left leg dragging along.

In my mind, my inner critic shouted, “What are you doing in college? You’ll never graduate. You’ll never make it. Stupid is what you are, remember? Just like all the doctors, teachers, and therapists confirmed with their perturbed grunts and distorted faces, when they examined you. They sent you to a sheltered workshop, too, instead of on to higher education. They didn’t want to admit that you needed accommodation, not rejection, and that you could learn. Instead, it was easier for them to label you a retard, instead of admitting IQ tests can’t measure anything for someone with dyslexia.”

The voice drowned out every positive affirmation in which I had encapsulated myself. “Stop, please stop,” I told myself over and over. “I’m all right, and I’ll get through this. I’m safe here.”
But the critic kept roaring until I quieted its voice by writing out my feelings and accepting everything that had happened to me. Through love and unconditional acceptance of myself, and yes, even acceptance of my inner critic, I healed.

If I can heal, you can, too.

Must It Be?

Looking out into
The gray-fisted sky,
Its chalky waves
Slowly moving toward me,
With its own
Silent force!

Its song sang
Out droning notes
Frightening me!

I looked up
And the smoky canopy
Shouted down at me
With a red blazing hue,
Filling the horizon!
“Must it be?”

I turned quickly
To ignore those lyrics
But still, they kept haunting me!

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Moon’s Glow

Photo of Tower Records on Sunset Blvd in Los Angeles, CA, USA

One Friday night back in 1982, I wrote this poem. My friend Robert and I had decided to take a walk from the West Hollywood apartment I shared with Mama up the hill to Tower Records on Sunset Boulevard. It was our favorite hang out place.

“Let’s go,” I said in a merry voice as I put on my shoes, tied them, and headed out the front door into a lovely summer night with the temperature just right and a little breeze. The full moon lighting our way could not have been more beautiful.

We climbed the big hill, breathing deeply, catching our breath, then with four more blocks to go, we saw the two Tower Records buildings. We had made it all the way. Since we didn’t want contemporary or pop that night, we went to the one with classical music. Smiling, enjoying the moment, we walked the final distance and through the door into a room filled with vinyl records and cassette tapes to browse.

We stayed for well over an hour, then relished a walk down the block, taking in the beautiful gardens surrounding the homes we passed. Three quarters of the way down the street, I saw a snail sitting still and taking in the moon, just as we were.

My friend Robert said, “Why don’t you write a haiku about this?”

I said, “All right.”

And it was.

Moon’s Glow

Bare silver branches
Alone under the moon’s glow
I see a snail…

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Luminous Night

Photo of a candle flame burning against a black background

This poem was written in 1993 as I became more aware of the ongoing hurdles I had to clear to stay healthy. Western medicine didn’t help. So I searched and, importantly, never gave up. Yet, I sensed that something deep was going on within my body, especially knowing my family’s history. Thus, I turned to integrative medicine.

Answers came. I found out I was not digesting my food properly, and it showed in my tummy. My stomach pooched out. I was barely eating, yet I looked like I was pregnant, and my inability to digest food was getting worse. Then I found out I had leaky gut syndrome.

But to me, it was just one more thing. Just one more thing to face and accept about myself unconditionally.

Acutely aware, I took on this challenge. I became even braver, stronger, and willing to do anything—anything to get back my smiling self.

My sweet, sensitive body had changed. And so had my telomeres. They were scarcely glowing. (They are a region of repetitive DNA sequences at the ends of chromosomes.) And my inability to digest food was getting worse.

This journey of healing started back in 1972. I learned more and more about myself and healing my body in 2001. It is now 2024, and my body is healing and my light is growing brighter every day.

If I can do this, you can too. Take care of yourself and make your light shine.

LUMINOUS LIGHT

The wick of my candle
Still burns,
But throughout
The yearly rainfalls
My light has dimmed
Weaker, dimmer with
Each passing day!
And with each strike of the match,
Its dimly lit light flickers
Lower, way down low!

It once was radiant,
With such a glow,
And, now,
A bent taper
So faint, oh so low!

Its shadow shading
It’s flame fading
Further into darkness!

Suddenly, with a
Sparkle and a shine,
My luminous light
Illuminates the
Translucent
Twinkle of hope!

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Love With You

I wrote this poem in 1997 about another friend I had for a short while, a lovely Australian man. We met online and our friendship grew into love as I loved him like I love all my friends. We got very close and enjoyed deep conversations on all levels.

Then, he wanted more and I couldn’t give more because I was married. But never the less, he came all the way from Sidney to visit my husband and me. He stayed for two weeks, and we all had a wonderful time. In fact, after seeing the happiness that Chris and I shared, he wanted to try marriage again. But his last words before he left made my heart sink.

He said, “I hope I can find someone who loves me as much as Chris loves you.”

I knew he would not see me ever again, especially when he did not give me his phone number or say let’s stay in touch. In the pit of my stomach, I knew he didn’t want to remain friends. Not at all. In a way, I felt like I had been used.

However, I did see him once more, when he and his fiancee changed planes at LAX. He let me know when they would arrive, so Chris and I drove over and waited for their plane to land. The fiancee was meek and quiet. She hardly said a word, and I wondered if this was what the Australian wanted, not someone outgoing like me.

I waved goodbye as they boarded their departing flight, never to hear from him again. To this day, I wish him the best.

LOVE WITH YOU

I have loved once,
And now again.
But even though time,
And place,
And circumstances
Have changed our lives,
Our destination together
Has clearly been defined.

No matter what anyone says,
You will always be mine,
Pure and simple
Sweet refine!

Our precious path,
We thought not twice,
Sharing, caring,
And building many
Castles in the sky!

We took each day
With a carefree approach,
Thinking not what the future
Would bring forth!

Then, one day,
Our hearts heard
The news, as
We stood still
Suspended in time!

We trembled and cried
And could not stop
The tears that flowed!

With each raw emotion,
And each sorrow we shed,
We tossed and turned,
Only to rise as
We took step by step
Ceasing without end
Enduring all
Only to stay
Strong for us all!

We asked for strength,
An unshakable strength,
To fortify our most
Fearless faith!

Then that moment came,
We were faced with the unknown
We knew the heavens above
Were taking us home!

So you see
My love,
My sweet man,
Of mine,
This dreadful thing,
Can no longer linger in thine!

For you will soon see
The universe and
The heavens above!

Have faith,
My darling,
In the Heavens on High,
No matter where,
No matter when,
No matter why!

Yield not to temptation,
As it is always close
At hand,
It is within your heart
To taste the sweetness
Again!

My love for you
Is pure and simple,
It will never end.
It’s a continuous circle!

It will withstand
Countless heartthrobs
Holding your sweet-tempered spirit,
Peaceful, within the palms of mine
As I help your kindred soul
Through your flight in time!

Serve strong these shadows unknown,
As Spirit divine will take you home!

He will enlighten our path,
In his sweet given time.
This, which comes before us
Is a test, you see!

He will make all things
Whole, bright, and new for thee!

He will sweeten the stones
Before each step we take,
With a soft and delicate shimmer,
Shining down upon us,
Making all the dreams
Which we once dreamed together
Come true.

We will be grateful,
And will always read His
Scriptures in the sand!

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Little Seeding

Photo of young beech tree in a spruce forest

On my fiftieth birthday, in 2001, I was thinking about my family tree, my roots, and the history of my life, not just ethnic, but cultural too—strong, grounded, growing from kindness, love, dignity, and strength of character.

I realized how strong my foundation was, and how it made me face every challenge with an inner light to brighten the hearts and souls of others. Not only had I bared my soul, I had uncovered it. I had discovered it.

If I can do this, you can too.

Little Seedling

How young you are, my little tree,
You’re a seedling amongst all that be!

And even though your branches are weak,
You grow stronger with every breath you seek!

Do you know why
You are the most beautiful
Of them all?

It’s because you sway
With every beckoning call
Listening sensitively
All on your own!

Your wonder,
Your glory,
Your beauty,
All come from the powers you posses!

They are your gifts!
My sweet girl!
For you have stood tall,
Taking each disappointment,
Without complete defeat

You stand in quiet solitude
With dignity and grace!

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Listening

JMW Turner's painting Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons

This poem came to me one day, back in 2004, when I was feeling pretty down low. It had to do with the man I loved.

That day my heart hurt because of the way he talked down to me and at me. Because he hurt me so deeply, my feelings were out of control. I could barely speak, I was so upset.

So, I reached out to my friend Shawn, who lived in Massachusetts, and we talked by telephone for a long time, but within a few minutes of describing what was going on inside myself, I began releasing my anguish, letting go, and feeling better.

As I relinquished my grip enough to free myself from the stress and tension, I knew I had to release my anger, and when I did, that anger and hurt turned to forgiveness.

Yet, as my friend and I talked, I knew I had to hang up, so I could write, affirm, meditate and forgive not just my beloved—but myself for reacting. I needed to be alone and allow myself to breathe and set my heart free.

And I did set it free, but unfortunately, Shawn also eventually withdrew from my life. He was a good friend. I miss him and wish him well.

LISTENING

Today was dark!
My heart felt like sinking.
My thoughts drifted far from reality.
My voice quivered and disappeared!

Then I dialed you
And listened to your sweet voice.

You spoke words that sounded like a symphony,
And started a crimson blaze
Within myself,
Out of control!

You were so right,
And I was totally
Left on my own!

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Like Morning Dew

Sketch of a rowboat adrift at sea

Once again, I tried to help a friend of mine who had been in my life for twenty years.

Back in 2003, we were the best of friends, always there for each other with a comforting hug that gave both of us respite from a demanding world.

Yet, once again, he drifted away for another year and a half, and once again, I had to let him go with love as I prayed, affirmed, and wished the best for him. And that he would be all right.

I would always be there for him if he ever came back into my life needing a friend. Hence, this poem from 2003.

LIKE MORNING DEW

Your friendship,
My friend,
Is like
The softness of
Morning dew

Your friendship
Is like the gentle waves
Ebbing out to sea,
As the sun’s amber rays
Shine down upon me

Giving me pure
Nourishment from above,
Wisdom from within,
And enlighten to carry on!

Oh, how can I say
Thank you, my friend,
When words are not enough,

Please hear me
With your heart,
And see me with the sight
Of your soul,
And always, always
Walk beside me,
Singing tunes
Of your favorite
Inner song!

You can order my poetry collection, including this poem, here: Reflections of My Heart.

Reflections of My Heart: Palate of Purity

Reflections of My Heart: Never Giving In

Reflections of My Heart: Song

Reflections of My Heart: Must It Be?

Reflections of My Heart: Moon’s Glow

Reflections of My Heart: Luminous Night

Reflections of My Heart: Love With You

Reflections of My Heart: Little Seeding

Reflections of My Heart: Listening

Reflections of My Heart: Like Morning Dew

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