This is a morning prayer of gratitude and presence.
At the edge of sleep and waking,
Before words take their shape,
Before the mind races forward,
I pause,
I breathe,
I give thanks.
For this breath,
This body,
This moment,
Unpromised yet given,
For the quiet turning of the world,
For the unseen mercy that holds me here,
Just as I am.
Soul of all souls,
You have returned me to this day,
To this fleeting,
Radiant life,
Not because I earned it,
Not because it is mine to keep,
But because all things arise and pass by your gentle,
Turning hand.
May I walk this day with wonder.
May I hold it lightly,
Knowing it is not forever.
May I remember this breath is a gift,
This moment is holy,
This life is yours,
And I am here.
And here is a interpretive translation of the morning blessings.
Blessed is the one who opens my eyes,
Who lifts the veil of sleep,
Who grants me the first gift of morning,
To see the light returning,
To awaken once more to this fleeting,
Radiant world.
Blessed is the one who clothes the naked,
Who wraps me in breath,
In warmth,
In the shelter of this body,
Who reminds me that to exist,
Even for a moment,
Is to be held in the fabric of endless mercy.
Blessed is the one who frees the bound,
Who unties the knots of night's stillness,
Who grants me movement,
This stretch,
This step,
This rising into the unknown of a new day.
Blessed is the one who lifts the fallen,
Who reminds me that though I will stumble,
Though gravity and grief pull me down,
There is always a hand,
Seen or unseen,
Ready to lift me again.
Blessed is the one who spreads the earth upon the waters,
Who steadies me when the ground beneath shifts,
Who teaches me that nothing is fixed,
That all things flow,
And still I am carried.
Blessed is the one who guides my steps,
Who whispers that every path,
Even the uncertain one,
Is worthy of walking,
That every journey,
Even this one,
Is blessed.
May I move through this day awake and aware.
May I carry these gifts lightly,
Knowing they are not mine to keep,
But only to cherish.
