The verse

A single ripened seed holds all the year's slow grace,Yet read the sky, and learn the dawn-flush hour to trace.When roosters cry through heavy dew, then turn the loam—Wait for the slanting sun, and you forsake its place.

Reading

This slip bids you sow by the right hour, for all things have their season. Move when the dew lies heavy and the cock crows, going with the current and sparing your toil. It marks the moment only; the harvest it does not promise—yield rests with your labor and with Heaven.

The temple keeper adds

A kind sign. The god nodded — small, but real.

[ Draw another at the temple ][ Keep a traffic omamori ]