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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

Reflections of My Heart: The Road Back Home

I wrote this poem in 1996. In November or December, I had come down with a sore throat, so I missed some work. That was bad enough because my job involved teaching dance to elderly people, and I loved it.

Reflections of My Heart: The River

In 1993, husband Chris and I went on a camping trip through Sedona and Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon. From the seventh floor of the Desert View Watchtower on the canyon’s South Rim, the view was majestic. Everywhere I turned,

Reflections of My Heart: The Pond

One brisk, beautiful morning back in April 1992, my husband Chris and I got up and decided to go to the park to relax. He knew how much I enjoyed feeding the ducks and swans. The park with the pond

Reflections of My Heart: The Hands of Time

I wrote this poem in 1999 to an Australian friend who also didn’t want to stay in contact with me. I tried to reason and nurture him in his state of pain, but he wanted nothing of it. So I

Reflections of My Heart: The Dance

I wrote this poem in the early nineteen-eighties. It symbolizes all the lessons and all the experiences I have had as a disabled person. I spiritually and physically danced through each and every event in my life. Instead of making

Reflections of My Heart: Floor

I wrote this poem for my dance teacher, Al Gilbert. I was only three-and-a-half when he cupped my hand in his, while smiling and looking into my eyes. From that moment on, my life changed forever!       Floor

Reflections of My Heart: The Blackbird and the Moth

  In 1984, my mentor, Robert, and I went for one of our walks. Above us, a blackbird soared, silhouetted against the blue sky, with something in its beak. The bird landed. We tip-toed as close as we could. As

Reflections of My Heart: That One Special Night

In the mid-1980s, when I was in my twenties and single, I met a man in one of my B’nai B’rith social groups. He was handsome, down to earth, and he captured my attention in a way other men had

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