I wish you good wishes
Said Gryphon from her stony perch
as Poet passed her by in search of inspiration.
Good wishes indeed, and for what?
Replied the Poet with frown and down-turned lip
Annoyed at the interruption to her thoughts.
The night! I wish you a good and long night
For not another will there be
‘til tomorrow is complete,
done and fully accounted for.
Much ado about nothing,
Replied the Poet scornfully, boastfully:
Of nights and of days
We have many and for some, to spare!
What hubris, said Gryphon;
Only a human would thus speak
So irreverently of time.
But, insisted the Poet,
Are you not Gryphon, immortal, timeless?
What can a day and a night mean to such as you?
They call you a Poet, a writer of wisdom,
growled Gryphon with a deep sigh,
And cannot answer that? Fie on you!
A journey of a thousand miles
Begins with a single step, not so?
A Truism, bah! A bumper sticker!
Is that the extent of your eternal wisdom, Gryphon?
Foolish human, speak not of what you know naught.
Speak not of eternity, of that
which forever lies beyond your ken.
Do you not see, can you not comprehend,
Immortality is made of days
Each day accompanied by a single night?
What is more sacred, the journey?
Or the road by which the journey is accomplished?
The Poet opened her mouth to reply:
Gryphon put a sharp and heavy claw across her lips:
Silence! Small-minded, foolish human,
Do not make me entirely dislike you
For I know you would venture a choice,
An opinion borne on wings of ignorance,
Choosing one over the other
As though you cannot see
One cannot be without the other.
Would you have the day without its night?
A bird without its wings?