above all, Wisdom
to me — means acceptance of
my own helplessness

Last week I had a conversation at work about Russia, and I enthused briefly about St Basil’s Cathedral which knocked me out completely when I saw it in 1986. In my dream last night, I was in Moscow with St Basil’s in the background, and seemed to be trying to get back to Europe. My method of transportation was to be towed in flight by a flying woman who was well disposed towards me. But we nearly set out in the opposite direction by mistake and were only saved from this by the spirit of my dead maternal grandfather who intervened and set us in the right direction. The idea ‘grandfather’ resonates for me with the Jungian archetype of the ‘Wise Old Man’. I don’t know whether my grandfather was a particularly wise person. I don’t know whether I am. But I like thinking about what wisdom means to me, and this poem states it simply.


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