The verse

Draw the blade while the hour still sings,lest frost should creep and dull its gleam;know the crest of the tide—strike once,ride the wind, and the road runs clear.

Reading

This lot bids you act in season: a blade's worth lies not in ceaseless swinging but in the single stroke at the tide's rising. Go with the wind and the way grows clear—yet timing is half heaven's, half yours; the god names the hour, not the outcome.

The temple keeper adds

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

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