Back in 1983, on a night walk, I looked down. And there before me was a cocoon, with the caterpillar still weaving it in the moonlight, on the sidewalk where I stood. I stopped, looked, and smiled. This was the…
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Reflections of My Heart: Wanderer
In 1989, a woman wandered the streets of Santa Monica, homeless, disheveled, emaciated. Every day, I saw her in the same spot, and my heart went out to her, so I stopped what I was doing and said a silent…
Reflections of My Heart: Turbulent
In the summer of 1982, I was midway through my college education. My life had never been completely calm. Because I am disabled with cerebral palsy, left-side hemiplegia, and dyslexia, it has been a series of conflicts. And not because…
Reflections of My Heart: Traveling Rhythms
I wrote this poem in late 1983 while in college. During this time, learning by studying was a goal and expectation. I was determined to let nothing stop me from becoming more educated so I could thrive. Even though there…
Reflections of My Heart: Transparent Whiskers
One sunny day back in 1983, I walked to a neighborhood park that had a shallow, still pond. When I sat by the water, I sat to calm my racing mind. But as I sought repose, I observed ripples in…
Reflections of My Heart: Time Ticks
In 1985, I was a student at Santa Monica College, but I had to deal with the same issues and same kind of wrongheaded experts that I had faced right after I graduated from high school in 1969 when Rehab…
Reflections of My Heart: Thy Beauty
I wrote this poem on July 29, 1981, a day I remember vividly. That spring, I had turned thirty, and I vowed, for the next thirty years, I would keep working through each and every obstacle in my life. I…
Reflections of My Heart: The Swan
It was sunset. April 24th 1983, the day time changed, the day we turned our clocks forward for Daylight Savings Time. And the evening was perfect. It was safer, then, for a woman to go outside in the evening glow…
Reflections of My Heart: The Singing Tree
One midmorning in the spring of 1978, as I took a walk down my block, a sound and a feeling came over me—from a tree. They overcame me. Strong. Indestructible. Everlasting. But not harsh or stern. Gentle, like water flowing…
Reflections of My Heart: The Sculptor
I wrote this poem in 1978, a year when I had many realizations about myself. Instead of feeling inferior and ashamed of myself, I decided to adopt a tolerant, sympathetic approach to who I was. Instead of hating who I…