On the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders

and you stumble, may the clay dance to balance you.

And when your eyes freeze behind the gray window

and the ghost of loss gets in to you,

may a flock of colors, indigo, red, green, and azure blue

come to waken in you a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays in the curach of thought

and a stain of ocean blackens beneath you,

may there come across the waters

a path of yellow moonlight

to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,

And the clarity of light be yours,

may the fluency of the ocean be yours,

may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow wind work these words of love around you,

an invisible cloak to mind you life.

    O'Donohue, John, Anam Cara, A book of  Celtic wisdom,
    HarperCollins Publishers, Inc, N.Y., 1997.