Player's Prayer

Happy Good Friday to all!

It’s scintillatingly strange
How single-minded my brain
With thoughts in narrow range
I become on that green plane
I’m too happy here
The fresh scent of tennis
Gets me every time I’m near
No less pleasant than a kiss
I survey and observe before each match
As the grass cuddles around my back
Soft supporters huddled in a batch
Waiting for the moment I take the track
I wish I could see myself through His eyes
To witness the game in a different view
Then I’d know how the soul applies
And how from the grass my spirit grew
It takes two bounces before I serve
To carefully assess my crosscourt neighbor
Maybe in that time I’ll settle my nerve
Or just play through, prayer and labor
The net separates our pride and pain
But both us hold justifiable pairs
Of racquet tools used for adverse gain
Squeezed between hands of undue care
In this proper sport I struggle with blame
When I succumb to my weakest part
Because I know inside I’ll never claim
My reason for failing comes from the heart
The smacking sound serves as a warning
I have to believe more in myself
That’s why I come here each pretty morning
Asking for love, forgiveness and health