Swa Mill Sonnet

Oh, Great Perhaps, let me be unafraid
of blind spots, thorny patches, and the stars.
Thank you for things exactly as they are:
Revealed by dawn, or lurking in the shade.
Oh, Great Perhaps, let me be unafraid
of black ice, as-yet-unrequited scars,
pernicious felons dressed as avatars,
and treasure trickling out of bloodied spades.
You are the only deity for me,
and I will send you purple flowers of praise:
for you alone know when to let me be,
and when to send the chilly winds of grace.
Deliver me from pallid normalcy,
and I will live forever every day.