Grimoire Activation

By ink and impulse,
I awaken this book.

Not by perfection,
but by living hands
and the holy chaos of trying.

Let these pages be charged
by laughter, by tears,
by small victories and stubborn things.

If I spill, let it consecrate.
If I mispronounce, let it translate.
If I doubt, let doubt become doorway.

By salt, by steam, by breath,
this grimoire is active.

Let accidents align.
Let the mundane shimmer.
Let small magick compound.

This book is listening.
And I am, too.

So it hums.
So it holds.
So it works.