Let this Day’s God Consider Me Its Sport – Sonnet Fifty-Three

Let this day’s God consider me its sport,  
And bandy like a cat, it would, its mouse.  
Today, I will consider my exhort,  
And you the keeper of its waters’ house.  

Your simple phrase that raise in me, instill,  
That opens to my simple touch, a well,  
From rivulets and springs, unseen, find fill,  
And spills to baptize every breath and cell.  
 
The wonderous indoctrine, pleasure’s weep,  
To heaven spread, on knees, or prostrate spent,  
Like Lourdes, the bless’ed waters, healing keep  
Erect those bent by living’s unrelent.  
 
Absolve me, priestess, in your waters’ grace,  
That my day’s gift find home in your embrace.