By Andrea Lingle

What comes first?

Jesus said loving comes first.

Genesis says chaos.

Your nutritionist says breakfast comes first,

Followed by gallons of water.

Is it the engine or the rail?

The quiver or the roar?

Life says you and yours and get-what-you-can,

Come first, me first, done.

What comes first in this scratch-it-out life?

This winners-only club?

The broke beggar or the Good Samaritan?

Or—what now? Come now.

Hush.

Before the loving and the chaos.

Before the hustle and the score.

Hush.

Hush now, dearie, hush now and listen.

The stream sings quiet and low,

If you so much as rustle, you will miss it.

You will drown it in blow.

Stop here, sister. Put that down.

It will wait for the sun and the wind

To finish their dance with your eyes and your

Saw-dust heart.

Do you know how long it takes to heal?

To hear? To be born?

Do you know how far to the beginning?

To the chaos and the loving?

Hush comes first.