The Godfather

Posted on Saturday, December 23rd, 2006

What if the Godfather was not trying to hold together and prosper a criminal syndicate, but rather share the wisdom gained sometimes at great price during a lifetime of turmoil. I encountered one such individual in literature – Zorba – about whom Nikos Kanzantzakis wrote in Zorba The Greek.  He caught my attention when I was in my early 30’s and he is my companion even now.

He sits with me in the early morning as I reflect upon life and loss. He especially influences me in my relationships, reminding me of those special moments spent with family, friends, and strangers that over the course of time cannot be repeated. When I begin to take life too seriously, he nudges me, and encourages me to join him, arms raised as he dances with abandon across the sand.  You see, Zorba is mad in the finest sense of the word.

I wrote this poem to honor Zorba some years ago when I was trying to establish myself as a husband, father, and a career intelligence officer. At the time we were residing in Warsaw.

“Zorba”

Who is that fool with arms outstretch
Above black-haired ankles – pale bare feet?
Whose smile mocks himself no less that those,
Who trudge uphill – dull face to neck.

Why does loose earth remember
His shuffling embrace,
And hum the measured steps
Of the wise?

Does he build bridges?
The column must have begun – now.
Maybe it will end – when?
He has colored it

With his white worn pants
And blue-beached shirt.
His dance is seen and sure for him
Because there is a column.

Your neck is before my face
Because of his madness.

When I was a spy, I used to prepare for a meeting with an agent as if it were to be our last meeting. In this season of family reunions, consider the special gift granted you to enjoy once again the love of family and friends without the distraction of those daily priorities that seem to self generate in an idle heart.

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