The Meaning of Wisdom*
After Yannis Ritsos

I look for wisdom in simple things so you can follow me, as I follow them if I’m not there, your eyes will see what I have seen Our minds will merge
The summer glistens outside (the café) the shine on my bicycle spokes alerting their presence, (they got that way because of what the world is saying to us), each standing solitary yet radiating to one place like wisdom bowing to the center.
Another bicycle speeds by, a wheel blur each individual lost in service only truth remains
Everything is a threshold to wisdom, one often passed by and that’s when wisdom is true: when it insists you cross over.
*This poem is a cover version of Y. Ritsos’ poem “The Meaning of Simplicity” with which I introduced my book of poetry Through Silence and Ash. Like a cover of a song, it is an homage to the original artist while displaying the individuality of the covering artist. In other words, I shamelessly borrowed his tune and even some of his lyrics yet imbued it with my own message and personality. To the extent that this poem fails, it is solely the failings of this author. To the extent that it succeeds, everything is owed to the original wisdom and wordsmithing of Ritsos.
The art is also cover of sorts. It’s a collage of a piece of original art by myself merged with a café painting (that I copied and altered) by Greek artist Nikoloidis, a friend of the family, and used with his permission.






