The time will come 
when, with elation 
you will greet yourself arriving 
at your own door, in your own mirror 
and each will smile at the other's welcome, 

and say, sit here. Eat. 
You will love again the stranger who was your self. 
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart 
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you 

all your life, whom you ignored 
for another, who knows you by heart. 
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, 

the photographs, the desperate notes, 
peel your own image from the mirror. 
Sit. Feast on your life.

~Derek Walcott

I think we can all agree that the month of April was full and transformational to say the least. Astrologically, it was no joke! Everyone I've come into contact with has mentioned some major shuffling. The biggest shift in our family was the passing of my 97 year-old Grandmother. She left this earthly plane the morning of the blood full moon and her service was the following Tuesday after Easter.

Experiencing death during a time of year when there is so much life and rebirth felt appropriate in an unusual way. The visceral feelings of loss and grief has brought so much realness to everyday life and a reevaluation of what matters most and how we choose to spend our time here. This post is in honor of her strength, vivacious spirit, unforgettable lessons, and exrordinary legacy I feel beyond proud to carry on. Love always, Camina

In continuation with the theme of love this month, here is another beautiful poem by Hafiz. As my friend Matt wrote, "When I read a poem like this, I think of how much saccharine and cheap Hallmark sentimentality about love gets peddled in our society, and how badly we are at telling stories of love." I completely agree and am grateful we have access to the wisdom shared by masterful poets throughout history. I hope Hafiz's words continue to inspire an unleashing of creativity that warms you up from the inside out in this last month of winter. Om Shanti.

'We Have Not Come to Take Prisoners' 

We have not come here to take prisoners,
But to surrender ever more deeply 
To freedom and joy.

We have not come into this exquisite world
To hold ourselves hostage from love.

Run my dear,
From anything 
That may not strengthen
Your precious budding wings. 

Run like hell my dear,
From anyone likely
To put a sharp knife
Into the sacred, tender vision
Of your beautiful heart.

We have a duty to befriend
Those aspects of obedience 
That stand outside of our house
And shout to our reason
"O please, O please,
Come out and play."

For we have not come here to take prisioners
Or to confine our wondrous spirits,

But to experience ever and ever more deeply
Our divine courage, freedom and light! 

~Hafiz

John O'Donohue was renowned for his sharp intellect, deeply truthful story telling, and way he graciously revealed both the painful longings and joyous revelations of our human experience. On this early, crisp morning I'd like to share with you one of my favorite poems he wrote:

A Morning Offering

I bless the night that nourished my heart
To set the ghosts of longing free
Into the flow and figure of dream
That went to harvest from the dark
Bread for the hunger no one sees.

All that is eternal in me
Welcomes the wonder of this day,
The field of brightness it creates
Offering time for each thing
To arise and illuminate.

I place on the altar of dawn:
The quiet loyalty of breath,
The tent of thought where I shelter,
Wave of desire I am shore to
And all beauty drawn to the eye.

May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites me to new frontiers,
To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
To risk being disturbed and changed.

May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.

~ John O'Donohue ~