In a time of no wind, in a spell of stasis after stars.
In the almost morning morning, in the dawn before
the solar dawning, the pause before the prelude,
the hush that wombs the day, just stay, stay put
before the roving eye can see, before the ear can hear
the no-news news. Be here, exactly where you are,
and where you aren’t, in the unsown garden,
in the sheer unknowing, in the windless blowing,
in the fenceless land, in the I before the I began.
Abide, don’t hide, but neither spin the wheel of fate.
There is still time. No time at all. Don’t bum-rush
Eden’s gate. The snake will wait.