The Book Of Night Eight

(VII) Like a mirage, the night wavers around four a. m. It's as if dark and light performed a dance of alternating brilliance, but it threatens to spin out of control and cause a disaster throughout the fields of the night. Night owls can attest to this fear of collapse. It cannot be hidden or disguised. But I have a sense for these things. It derives from my experience, and though I am pledged to silence about this mystery, I will tell you what I can. When we reach the threshold of the moment of entry, I will know in a final flash of clarity, if we can proceed... Then follow me with slow urgency and recite the delights of your heart until they are more persuasive than a perfect day in spring. If your truth reveals your beauty, I will no longer conceal my love. Should this fail, and the threshold closes, I will return to my ancestral home, alone but free, sad but wise.