April is National Poetry Month, a month set aside to celebrate poetry and its vital place in our society. Launched by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, this month-long celebration has attracted millions of readers, students, teachers, librarians, booksellers, and poets.

Each Friday of April, I will share a favorite poetry collection.

Today’s pick is Healing is a Gift: Poems for Those Who Need to Grow by Alexandra Vasiliu, a collection described as “a valuable resource for anyone seeking personal growth, self-improvement, and inner peace.”

From the very first lines, it’s evident that Ms. Vasiliu writes with raw honesty and heartfelt intention. Her collection, composed in free verse, reads like a quiet conversation with the soul. There is a simplicity in her language that belies the emotional depth beneath. At times, it felt like I was reading a distilled self-help guide wrapped in poetic form.

The titles, among them, “No Permission Needed,” “Your Golden Trophy,” “Such Bad Manners,” and “No Pills,” suggest a stripping away of pretense and a return to fundamentals. These poems don’t seek to impress. Instead, they challenge the reader to confront and reconsider long-held beliefs about pain, recovery, and self-worth.

This slim volume can easily be read in a single sitting, but its impact lingers. I found myself pausing often, underlining lines that struck a chord, and marking pages to return to later. It’s a book you’ll want to keep within reach—not just for comfort but as a reminder of how powerful honesty can be.

Here’s one of my favorite poems:

Hope

When everything around you
is falling apart,
remind yourself
that Hope is a magical place
where all implausible dreams
stop being impossible,
where all good powers
belong naturally to you,
where love,
self-confidence,
and peace
call your name out loud.

When everything around you
is falling apart,
remind yourself
that you can find refuge
in Hope,
in that magical,
invisible place
where you can go without a car
or a passport.

When everything around you
is falling apart,
remind yourself
that for moving on,
all you need is Hope.

And Hope is the name of a pure heart.

April is National Poetry Month, a month set aside to celebrate poetry and its vital place in our society. Launched by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, this month-long celebration has attracted millions of readers, students, teachers, librarians, booksellers, and poets.

Today, and for the next two Fridays, I will share my favorite poetry collections.

Today’s selection, Instructions for Traveling West, has been described as “a lush debut collection that examines what happens when we leave home and leap into the unknown.”

A master wordsmith, Joy Sullivan possesses that rare ability to transform life’s most ordinary moments into dazzling poetry that brims with emotion and insight. I was impressed by her vivid imagery, fresh metaphors, and the threads of humor and compassion that run throughout the collection.

Underlying each poem is the importance of listening to our deepest desires and embracing the call to reinvent ourselves. This is something Sullivan understands very well. In the midst of the pandemic, she left the man she planned to marry, sold her house, quit her corporate job, and drove west.

These poems, with their deeply personal and universal relatable themes, will resonate with women at every age and stage of life. A must-read book for anyone seeking clarity, courage, or a spark of reinvention.

Here’s one of my favorite poems:

Giving Notice

One day soon, you’ll rise from your desk or quietly excuse yourself
from the meeting or turn the car around in the middle of the street.
Anything may trigger it. An open window. A sunny day in April.
Daffodils panting in a mason jar. Call it madness. Call it glorious

disappearance. Call it locomotion. Do what you should have done
years ago. Let your body out to pasture. Fill your calendar with
nothing but sky. Surrender to the woods. To cicadas and sap
beetles. To the moths, the color of memory and dream. Wear
dusk like an ancient cloak. Hurry—

there’s still time to creature—to pluck all the wild cloudberries
and carry them home. Even now, you can hear coyotes crying
at the canyon’s edge. Find your first fang. Grow back your hackles
and howl. This was always your chorus, the mother tongue, a feral
hymn you know by heart.

April is National Poetry Month, a month set aside to celebrate poetry and its vital place in our society. Launched by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, this month-long celebration has attracted millions of readers, students, teachers, librarians, booksellers, and poets.

Today, and for the next three Fridays, I will share my favorite poetry collections.

Today’s selection, All Along You Were Blooming, has been described as “a love letter from the poet to your heart, to your soul, and to your body.”

There is so much to like here, starting with the title and subtitle. These initial messages are reassuring, reminding us that we have been blooming for a while and that we can enrich our lives with “thoughts for boundless living.” I was also impressed by the striking colors and illustrations that accompany each piece of poetry and prose.

Morgan Harper Nichols—a multi-talented artist, musician, and poet—does more than create art. She also gives meaning to each season of our lives. Her work gently encourages us to live fully in the present moment and own our unique stories. Her backstory is an intriguing one. An introvert, she didn’t believe she could show up in the world. All that changed on a cold autumn day when Morgan took a deep breath and wrote an Instagram message to her followers. She invited them to share their stories, and one by one, she responded with a personalized poem, forging a deep and authentic connection with her audience.

Beautifully written and aesthetically pleasing, this book is a versatile gift for many occasions. Whether it’s for Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, birthdays, or holidays, this collection will delight the poetry readers in your circle.

One of my favorite poems from the collection:

You find yourself
beneath a canopy of trees
with broken branches,
covered with moss tangled at your knees.

Rest assured
the forest does not crawl on forever,

But you must begin the journey
here.

For this is the time,
this is the time to come alive,
to walk tall with a beating heart
and wide-open midday eyes,
to surrender,
here in the green,
for you are still free
to travel free,
without knowing
everything,
humbly following the traces of daylight,
even though the path is unmarked,
even though this was not a favored start,
this is your only Hope
to make it through
precisely here,
pushing through the land of the unknown
you will find your home
in Hope.

So for now,
while you are here,
turn your attention
to the lessons of strength
this present forest offers.