{"id":3332,"date":"2015-03-18T12:12:43","date_gmt":"2015-03-18T11:12:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/cequireste\/?p=3332"},"modified":"2017-09-03T20:39:15","modified_gmt":"2017-09-03T20:39:15","slug":"martine-cros-nataliah-oso-laurence-nicolas","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/cequireste.fr\/?p=3332","title":{"rendered":"Love is temple \/ Les espoirs pourpres"},"content":{"rendered":"

Love is temple<\/h1>\n

Love is temple\u2026
\nComme le p\u00e9tale \u00e9toi\u00adl\u00e9 qui inlas\u00adsa\u00adble\u00adment glisse sur le sol sou\u00adle\u00adv\u00e9 par le vent gla\u00adc\u00e9. Je me construis \u00e0 l\u2019abri, d\u2019un abri de m\u00e9tal et de bois. Peut-\u00eatre vais-je tro\u00adquer mes pen\u00ads\u00e9es pa\u00efennes contre un petit bout de dieu, peut-\u00eatre vais-je m\u2019abandonner \u00e0 la route de gou\u00addron pour oublier les cieux\u2026<\/p>\n

\u00e0 mi-che\u00admin
\nd\u2019un hiver
\nune sai\u00adson en
\nenfer
\nn\u2019existe plus que
\nla beaut\u00e9
\nle reste est un
\nsur\u00adsis vol\u00e9
\ngla\u00adc\u00e9 de
\nsonge surann\u00e9<\/p>\n

\u00e0 tra\u00adver\u00adser la rime<\/p>\n

je com\u00adprends le voyage<\/p>\n

Croire en cet imb\u00e9\u00adcile pou\u00advoir des pleurs et des sur\u00adsis. Envi\u00adsa\u00adger un sou\u00adrire des\u00adpo\u00adtique qui entra\u00ee\u00adne\u00adrait un \u00e9qui\u00adlibre instable des \u00e9mo\u00adtions, de la vision rose des tons chauds de l\u2019amour passion.
\nJe ne me d\u00e9bat\u00adtrai pas dans ce tun\u00adnel de corps et de mains cou\u00adlant vers mon cou, assou\u00adpi dans le rouge nais\u00adsant de la tub\u00e9reuse.
\nLe sang coule et teinte mes mots\u2026 je me coule dans le som\u00admeil artificiel<\/p>\n

dors mon corps allon\u00adg\u00e9 dors
\ndans ce rouge irr\u00e9el
\nun clo\u00adcher tinte
\net le ciel neige,<\/p>\n

atone<\/p>\n

\u00e0
\ndemi-chemin
\nde tout
\nqu\u2019aimer
\nest impos\u00adsible dit
\nla canop\u00e9e
\nau feu solaire
\nton amour est
\nlibert\u00e9<\/p>\n

s\u2019exhale des rameaux d\u2019hiver
\nle vol d\u2019un mot intime<\/p>\n

puis\u00ads\u00e9-je y
\nrefleurir<\/p>\n

Je sais que je vais conqu\u00e9\u00adrir la nuit et le jour . Je sais que je pour\u00adrai de mon poing lev\u00e9 ache\u00adver ma course dans le soleil nais\u00adsant. Sans me br\u00fb\u00adler les plumes, l\u2019\u00e9p\u00e9e sur la hanche, je pour\u00adsui\u00advrai ce prin\u00adtemps pour qu\u2019il rap\u00adpelle le souffle du renou\u00adveau sur tes l\u00e8vres blanches.
\nRap\u00adpelles toi tu mou\u00adrais dans les bras trans\u00adpa\u00adrents de mon absence\u2026 main\u00adte\u00adnant d\u00e9sire vivre pour que nos \u00e2mes enfin puissent s\u2019accoupler dans un sourire<\/p>\n

qu\u2019une \u00eele est si lointaine
\ndans le fruit d\u00e9fendu<\/p>\n

ai-je \u00e9t\u00e9 endormie<\/p>\n

bai\u00adser qui me
\nr\u00e9veille
\n\u00e9veille les mots
\nb\u00e2illonn\u00e9s
\nclo\u00eetr\u00e9s
\ndans le bois mort
\nje fus ruine
\nd\u2019attente
\nje,
\ninconsolable
\nsans ton
\nenchantement<\/p>\n

De mon espoir, de ces br\u00fb\u00adlantes flammes. De nos mots, maux \u00e9chan\u00adg\u00e9s nous gran\u00addi\u00adrons dans les tour\u00adments arra\u00adch\u00e9s. Tu sais qui je suis, je sais qui tu es. L\u2019essentiel de nos \u00e2mes nous avons par\u00adta\u00adg\u00e9 alors sache que m\u00eame le temps ne sau\u00adra nous gom\u00admer, comme une esquisse dans le vent nous mar\u00adque\u00adrons l\u2019espace.<\/p>\n

Po\u00e8me : Mar\u00adtine Cros &<\/span> Nata\u00adliah Oso<\/p>\n

Saint-Pierre d\u2019Amilly et Dijon, le 15 f\u00e9vrier 2015<\/p>\n

Les espoirs pourpres<\/h1>\n

Au seuil<\/p>\n

tapis de fleurs de bois et de vergers,
\n\u00e0 l\u2019or\u00e9e
\ndes portes des temples oubli\u00e9s,
\nj\u2019avance et recule d\u2019un pas
\nd\u2019une main
\nou de la moi\u00adti\u00e9 d\u2019un c\u0153ur
\nj\u2019effeuille
\nle corps du doute<\/p>\n

sur la tige nue,<\/p>\n

comme une fleur,<\/p>\n

le r\u00eave<\/p>\n

Si mes pas h\u00e9si\u00adtants effleurent la dou\u00adceur de la mousse, mon \u00e2me aven\u00adtu\u00adreuse, elle, ne cesse de me ten\u00adter de sa har\u00addiesse. D\u2019une main f\u00e9brile, je finis par pous\u00adser le por\u00adtail. Dans la ros\u00e9e du matin, la brume se fait com\u00adplice, et dans une \u00e9chap\u00adp\u00e9e me laisse admi\u00adrer d\u2019un secret les pr\u00e9mices.<\/p>\n

Pre\u00admi\u00e8res n\u00e9es des<\/p>\n

ori\u00adgines et des fins,
\nces traces parme
\no\u00f9 le vibr\u00e9 de vie
\net le pleur de l\u2019amour
\nentre des draps de lin
\nr\u00e9v\u00e8lent leur myst\u00e8re<\/p>\n

tu cours lever les voiles<\/p>\n

des abysses<\/p>\n

Cours-tu
\ncomme l\u2019enfant d\u2019un cerf-volant<\/p>\n

au fri\u00adse\u00adlis de
\nla mer
\n\u00e0 perdre haleine<\/p>\n

Cours-tu vers l\u2019appel<\/p>\n

souffle cou\u00adp\u00e9<\/p>\n

inat\u00adten\u00addu<\/p>\n

C\u2019est ici qu\u2019est la vie. Sur le che\u00admin car\u00admin de la v\u00eature dont s\u2019est d\u00e9fait mon corps comme une pelisse trop lisse, d\u00e9pe\u00adc\u00e9e, \u00e9pi\u00adder\u00admique. Je r\u00e9ap\u00adprends les sons des anciennes cordes dis\u00adten\u00addues par ma pan\u00adto\u00admime path\u00e9\u00adtique. Mon \u00e2me bouillon\u00adnante se met au dia\u00adpa\u00adson des sai\u00adsons, trou\u00advant dans la nature sau\u00advage le creu\u00adset d\u2019une alliance dont les bou\u00adquets flo\u00adraux se m\u00ealent \u00e0 mes maux.<\/p>\n

Lune \u2014 pleine \u2014 demi \u2014 mot
\nblanche port\u00e9e
\nrose tamaris
\npar la fen\u00eatre mon regard
\ncaptif
\ncapte
\nle col\u00e9o\u00adpt\u00e8re bleu dor\u00e9
\nde ton pas qui<\/p>\n

se d\u00e9sosse<\/p>\n

dans ton \u00e9chapp\u00e9e<\/p>\n

Tu es l\u00e0 quelque part, dans cette nappe de brouillard. Cap\u00adtive des entre\u00adlacs de ton errance. Mes sens \u00e0 l\u2019aff\u00fbt h\u00e9rissent ma peau de radars \u00e9clec\u00adtiques. O\u00f9 est-elle, la petite hiron\u00addelle qui annonce la nais\u00adsance de ma d\u00e9li\u00advrance? Je vaga\u00adbonde, encore et encore, dans un d\u00e9cor \u00e0 la Coc\u00adteau, o\u00f9 la moindre des lignes \u00e9pu\u00adr\u00e9es est un fili\u00adgrane dans les feuilles vei\u00adn\u00e9es de mon ave\u00adnir, de mon \u00e2me en deve\u00adnir. Je sais bien que lorsque mes yeux croi\u00adse\u00adront la sur\u00adface miroir de ton regard, je n\u2019aurai d\u2019autre choix que de m\u2019y noyer ou renon\u00adcer. Et si je plonge, m\u00eame en songe, le toi sera moi. La folie me guettera.<\/p>\n

En elle d\u00e9sir
\nd\u2019aimer
\nsi aiguis\u00e9
\nqu\u2019une lame d\u2019\u00e9p\u00e9e<\/p>\n

tran\u00adcher l\u2019angelus oran\u00adg\u00e9 de l\u2019aurore
\nd\u00e9chi\u00adrer la m\u00e9lan\u00adco\u00adlie de
\nces pay\u00adsages fulgurants
\nqu\u2019elle pensait
\nperdre<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

elle prie pour que
\ntu appri\u00advoises son
\naban\u00addon      Sais-tu :
\nle sou\u00adpir qui la tient en vie
\nte gui\u00adde\u00adra comme les yeux
\nde la biche traqu\u00e9e
\nvers sa soli\u00adtude    Lorsque tu
\nentre\u00adras dans
\nsa cath\u00e9\u00addrale captive
\ntu trou\u00adve\u00adras son coeur<\/p>\n

point d\u2019\u00e9quilibre<\/p>\n

entre chaos et harmonie<\/p>\n

aucune folie ne sera sur l\u2019autel
\nsacrifi\u00e9e
\njuste une larme de
\nton sang m\u00eal\u00e9e
\n\u00e0 son sourire
\nque tu pourras
\nembrasser<\/p>\n

J\u2019avance au son \u00e9touf\u00adf\u00e9 d\u2019une res\u00adpi\u00adra\u00adtion hap\u00adp\u00e9e, jusqu\u2019\u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9tang for\u00adm\u00e9 par des larmes vers\u00e9es.
\nSur l\u2019onde trou\u00adbl\u00e9e par les espoirs pourpres qui s\u2019\u00e9gouttent, appa\u00adra\u00eet mon visage aux traits tourment\u00e9s.
\nMon \u00e2me amie, ma vie. Le voyage fut bien long. Je n\u2019ai plus peur, plus de ranc\u0153ur.
\nC\u2019est apai\u00ads\u00e9e que je viens t\u2019embraser.<\/p>\n

Po\u00e8me : Mar\u00adtine Cros &<\/span> Lau\u00adrence Nicolas
\nA Brive la Gaillarde et Dijon, le 15 f\u00e9vrier 2015 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Love is temple Love is temple\u2026 Comme le p\u00e9tale \u00e9toi\u00adl\u00e9 qui inlas\u00adsa\u00adble\u00adment glisse sur le sol sou\u00adle\u00adv\u00e9 par le vent gla\u00adc\u00e9. Je me construis \u00e0 l\u2019abri, d\u2019un abri de m\u00e9tal et de bois. Peut-\u00eatre vais-je tro\u00adquer mes pen\u00ads\u00e9es pa\u00efennes contre un petit bout de dieu, peut-\u00eatre vais-je m\u2019abandonner \u00e0 la route de gou\u00addron pour oublier [\u2026]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"wp_typography_post_enhancements_disabled":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[631,427,630],"tags":[278],"coauthors":[428,629,632],"class_list":["post-3332","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-laurence-nicolas","category-martine-cros","category-nataliah-oso","tag-vers"],"yoast_head":"\nLove is temple \/ Les espoirs pourpres - Ce qui reste<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/cequireste.fr\/?p=3332\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"fr_FR\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Love is temple \/ Les espoirs pourpres - Ce qui reste\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Love is temple Love is temple\u2026 Comme le p\u00e9tale \u00e9toi\u00adl\u00e9 qui inlas\u00adsa\u00adble\u00adment glisse sur le sol sou\u00adle\u00adv\u00e9 par le vent gla\u00adc\u00e9. Je me construis \u00e0 l\u2019abri, d\u2019un abri de m\u00e9tal et de bois. 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