I wrote this poem one glorious spring day in April 1979. At the time, I was young, and things seemed to be looking up for me. I had just won the Civil Rights case that guaranteed access to higher education for Californians with disabilities. I was full of excitement, energy and enthusiasm—and relief because my lawsuit had not been a sure thing. With a great sense of happiness and joy, I felt free, like a kid running in the sand on the beach. I wanted to spread my wings and fly like a butterfly. So I drove to beautiful Rancho Park, in Los Angeles, so I could be outside.

Along from my earlier trip alone to San Francisco, this was one of my first ventures into unfamiliar territory without my mother at my side. I was definitely spreading my wings and building my confidence.

This trip to Rancho Park was a continuation of my commitment to proving I could do things by myself and rejoicing, not only in taking action, but in saying I would do something, and then doing what I said. Even today, after a lifetime of achievements and doing things for myself, some people (I won’t say who) still doubt me and my abilities. But I can do for myself, and I do.

After arriving in Rancho Park, I put down my blanket, while watching all the delights of spring that the moment offered, like the gray stone and the moon drop that used to be there.

I took everything in, and was in the presence of my true self, listening, breathing, looking up and around, hearing all the sounds around me—children, running, screaming, joyously moving about, and the sights of mothers on the look-out, and couples hugging and kissing, sighing in romantic love.

Fully focused and engaged, I was fully there. It was not like being present when I think about what I’m going to write next in a story or poem. It was being in that moment, fully present, not thinking about anything else, except what was there surrounding me.

I inhaled the sweet, gentle breeze blowing through the sycamores. Seeing shades of light splattering through the powerful trees, the breath-taking beauty of being, I was awed and inspired by nature. And the flowers, the birds, the bees, and the butterfly wings springing up into the air, much to my delight.

Being free in that moment allowed me to feel my feelings deeper than ever before. And if I can do it, you can do it, too.

PS: News Flash: Jillian Day of 508assist.org has contributed another useful new article to this blog, “The Job Hunt with a Disability_ Real Tips, No Fluff.” And it’s the real deal. Don’t miss it, when it goes live next Wednesday, April 9^th.   

Splash

A splash of water
Sprinkles upon a gray stone
Like a soft moon drop!

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

Original text ©2025 by Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved. Image by Luna sin Estrella courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.