Psalm

May you have clear skies above you,

And still waters below.

May your cradle be rocked by zephyrs from heaven,

And your brow caressed by the soft fingers of your ancestors.

May the sun always rise on your hopes,

And the moon rise on your accomplishments. 

May your days be filled with dreams,

And your night’s rest restore you.

May the gates of the garden open before you,

And the jaws of the wilderness close behind you.

May your flowers turn towards the sun,

And your trees bear fruit in Autumn.

May every act of your own kindness be etched in your face,

And the scars of your cruelty leave no trace.

May the landscape of decades be unrolled before you,

As you shoulder your burden, and set out towards the horizon.

And may the days be many before you reach the broken ground of the unknown country.

And even though there are no paths in this place,

May you never lose your footing,

That your descent into this realm be long and gentle.

For even though you do not recognize where you are in the fearful darkness,

You have been here many times before,

And will be here again,

And as always before, after the long night

The green-gold meadows of your early years stretch ahead.

You will find your pack beneath the same apple tree,

Heave it to your shoulders,

And with firm strides, set out once again towards the horizon.