It might just be me but blessed and bliss have different connotations now.
This made me think of a Mary Oliver poem, probably because I've spent most of today idling in buttercup fields. Blissful and, in its way, blessed too.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?