Softest of Mornings
by Mary Oliver
Softest of mornings, hello.
And what will you do today, I wonder, to my heart?
And how much honey can the heart stand, I wonder, before it must break?
This is trivial, or nothing: a snail
climbing a trellis of leaves
and the blue trumpet of its flowers.
No doubt clocks are ticking loudly all over the world.
I don’t hear them. The snail’s pale horns
extend and wave this way and that
as her finger-body shuffles forward, leaving behind
the silvery path of her slime,
Oh, softest of mornings, how shall I break this?
How shall I move away from the snail, and the flowers?
How shall I go on, with my introspective and ambitious life?
My name is Deborah Globus and I am La Padre. With me you'll find the support you need to uncover practical, do-able spiritual practices that work for you. I offer new perspectives on old practices like journaling and ritual, with a side of compassion and a healthy dose of humor, just to keep it down-to-earth and real!