Free Between Night and Morn by Kahlil Gibran Page A

severe when he retorted, “The tempest would have bestowed upon you a great honour, of which you are not worthy, if she had swallowed you.” I agreed, “Yes, Sir, I fled the tempest so I might not be awarded an honour which I do not merit.” He turned his face from me in an effort to choke his smile, and then motioned toward a wooden bench by the fireplace and invited me to rest and dry my raiment. I could scarcely control my elation.
    I thanked him and sat down while he seated himself opposite, on a bench carved of rock. He commenced to dip his finger tips into an earthenware jar containing a kind of oil, applying it softly to the bird’s head and wings. Without looking up he said, “The strong winds have caused this bird to fall upon the rocks between Life and Death.” I replied, rendering comparison, “And the strong winds have sent me, adrift, to your door, in time to prevent having my head injured and my wings broken.”
    He looked at me seriously and said, “It is my wish that man would show the bird’s instinct, and it is my wish that the tempest would break the people’s wings. For man inclines toward fear and cowardice, and as he feels the awakening of the tempest he crawls into the crevices and the caves of the earth and hides himself.”
    My purpose was to extract the story of his self-imposed exile, and I provoked, “Yes, the birds possess an honour and courage that man does not possess.… Man lives in the shadow of laws and customs which he made and fashioned for himself, but the birds live according to the same free Eternal Law which causes the earth to pursue its mighty path about the sun.” His eyes and face brightened, as if he had found in me an understanding disciple, and he exclaimed, “Well done! If you place belief in your own words you should leave civilization and its corrupt laws and traditions, and live like the birds in a place empty of all things except the magnificent law of heaven and earth.
    â€œBelieving is a fine thing, but placing those beliefs into execution is a test of strength. Many are those who talk like the roar of the sea, but their lives are shallow and stagnant, like the rotting marshes. Many are those who lift their heads above the mountain tops, but their spirits remain dormant in the obscurity of the caverns.” He rose trembling from his seat and placed the bird upon a folded cloth by the window.
    He placed a bundle of dry sticks upon the fire, saying, “Remove your sandals and warm your feet, for dampness is dangerous to man’s health. Dry well your garments, and be comfortable.”
    Yusif’s continued hospitality kept my hopes high. I approached near to the fire, and the steam sifted from my wet robe. While he stood at the door gazing at the grey skies, my mind searched and scurried for the opening wedge into his background. I asked, innocently, “Has it been long since you came to this place?”
    Without looking at me, he answered quietly, “I came to this place when the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”
    I was aghast at these words! Struggling to gather my shocked and scattered wits, I said to myself, “How fantastic this man is! And how difficult is the path that leads to his reality! But I shall attack cautiously and slowly and patiently, until his reticence turns into communication, and his strangeness into understanding.”
    PART III
    Night was spreading her black garment upon those valleys, and the tempest was shrieking dizzily and the rain becoming stronger. I began to fancy that the Biblical flood was coming again, to abolish life and wash man’s filth from God’s earth.
    It seemed that the revolution of elements had created in Yusif’s heart a tranquility which often comes as a reaction to temperament and converts aloneness into conviviality. He