What the Bible says about light and seed

The True Light "In him, (the Lord Jesus) was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world,…the world didn’t recognize him." John 1:4,9.

The Good Seed and the Weeds “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seeds in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and went away. Matthew 13:24,25.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Rêverie


Je passe mon temps
A rêver tout conscient.
Mes pas me conduisent
Sur une plage déserte,
Un doux zéphyr caresse
A sa guise
Une conque aux reflets
D’arc en ciel
Que la marée complice
Abandonne à mes pieds.

Ce trésor à l’aspect anodin
Partage son secret
Lorsque me penchant
Dans le reflux du matin
Mon oreille attentive
Et patiente découvre
Une musique sublime
L’harmonie des ondes
Qui tendrement
Evoque dans mon être
Une sensation profonde.

Un désir irrésistible
De murmurer en unisson
Le nom qui provoque en moi
Un indescriptible émoi,
Le nom de ma douce
Et tendre bien-aimée
Qui par la richesse
De ses qualités
Et la beauté de son cœur
Pur, doux, bon et généreux
Fait de moi l’homme le plus comblé
Et certainement le plus heureux.

Jean-Louis.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Le Lion et l'Agnelle





C’est ce que j’aime en toi, ce qui m’attire …

Pouvoir te comprendre sans essayer d’analyser,
Quel privilège de contempler ta simplicité virginale
De simplement recevoir ce que tu m’offres
À ta manière toute originale,
Si gentiment, et courageusement,
Si tendrement et si généreusement

La porte,  tu l'as entrouverte
En réponse à un aveu
À peine chuchoté dans l’intimité
D’un boudoir de trafic virtuel,
D’une alcôve sans cloisons
Les murs n’ont pas d’oreilles
Dans le royaume du sommeil
Des rêves lucides empruntant leur essor
Des ailes caressantes de tes paroles
Réveillant tendrement ce cœur mort
D’avoir battu, trop vite, trop longtemps
Pour de mauvaises raisons.

La raison est souvent trompeuse
Elle se laisse emprisonner
Par les idées de vendeurs d’esclaves
Au meilleur acheteur
Mais l’amour pur et vrai
A seulement ses saisons,
Et nul besoin de se rendre,
De s’acheter ou de se vendre.

C’est lui seul qui rend la liberté
Qui ouvre toutes grandes les portes
De la servitude d’un peuple opprimé,
Fatigué du joug qu’ils ont eux-mêmes forgés,
Tendant leur cou fragile en abaissant le regard
Sous l’arrogance du maître de leur choix
Élu par peur de lever leurs yeux jusqu’au ciel
Pour accueillir humblement le message
Depuis longtemps proclamé.
Source éternelle d’unique vérité
Seul remède à la mourante humanité.

Toi, ma sœur, mon amie de toujours
Et mon amour renaissant en concert
Avec l’aube de chaque jour,
Tu l’as vue, cette chère liberté
Tu l’as goutée, elle guide ta vie,
Elle a rempli de mesure sage
L’infini qui nous est promis
Dans un avenir si présent
Dans ta belle âme sans frontières
Découverte et arpentée seulement
À la lumière des pas précédents
Sans besoin d’un regard furtif
Sur le chemin déjà parcouru
Dans le domaine des ombres

Nul besoin de se dérober
Quand le cœur pur est mis à nu
Sous le regard protecteur
De ton égal en réflexion
Sur la surface miroitante
De ta profondeur inaccessible
Aux navigateurs zélés étalant
Leur convoitise dans le creux
De leur marée basse où s’accumule
Un flux incessant d’écume inutile

Seuls les êtres équilibrés
Peuvent se permettre
De parcourir à leur gré
Le domaine des superlatifs
Sans pour cela admettre
La faiblesse de paraître extrêmes
Aux yeux des aveugles
Et de tomber dans le piège si tentant
D’une insipide médiocrité

Tout cela tu me l’as enseigné
Avec ta douceur, ta patience
Face à mon érudite ignorance
Tu as calmé ma fougue
Et mes élans passionnés
Ce lion que je crois être
Tu l’as dompté et lui donne à manger
Dans le creux de ta main entraînée
A bénir et à nourrir, toi enfant fidèle
De l’agneau de Dieu immolé

Toi, ma douce et gentille agnelle,
Bénis soient le reste de tes jours
Dans la paix, l’amour et la joie
Que Dieu dans sa grâce t’accordera.

Jean-Louis.














Thursday, January 27, 2011

A Sailor's Dream


Dedicated to my friend Andrew

One evening, sheltered from the wind and the rain
At ease in a little cove, enjoying his Southern Comfort
The sail, a happy and soft tune exchanging
Between the mast and the rigging
My sailboat anchored in melancholy
Was dreaming of a start for a change.

A little whisper, just a small breath,
Who knows? Perhaps a ballet
Of blue or sperm whales
To rock the boat and take him for a dance
Just a sensation
to fill the silent, 
empty space between two waves.

           Thirsty for fullness, surrounded with solitude
In this well designed habitat, all weather-proofed
The hold all sealed up, air conditioned
The rudder plunged in a space
Reduced to an indefinite wait.

Nothing, flat pond water, at the horizon
Nothing, but a synchronized flight of pelicans
Flipping their wings with the rhythm 
I was beating with the tip of my foot.
Maybe, that’s it, the echo of the deep
Response in harmony to a shiver of the heart
That emerges in the night on some wooden deck
And rises in crescendo up to our neck.

Not even daring, the veiled sound of a Ukulele
Draws from her sleep a sweet vahiné.
“Wake up! It’s time to rise and shine”

Strumming morning chords fade slowly,
One needs to play more than a song
To discover the pearl hidden
Behind the veil of a moiré sarong.

Meanwhile, she, unaware of her own power
Lets a melody escape, miraculous breath,
A Westerly trade wind blessed by God.

Filled with wonder at the sight
When he was hoping for a whale
To rescue him from his plight
The sailor, staggering, stumbling
Holds the dancing mast with all his might
As in a ballet choreographed on an off-beat.

Suddenly, surprise
A gentle stern wind blows on his sail
The hull whimpers and all the joints
Start singing a sweet symphony.
The floating hammock swings
And heads for a sweet harmony.

The sailor, far from analyzing
This fortuitous scented breeze
Asks almost in a whisper:

"Aren’t you gutsy with your gust!"
"Why, no! All my wrong if any
Is to have blown in your sail?
Now it’s your call to follow your star.
After all you woke me up
With your foot tapping.
Isn’t it what you wanted?"
Come on, sailor man, don’t blow your cover
Especially, don’t blow your cool!
To your words, add your steps,
And stop giggling.
For after having heard you
I was gutsy, indeed
So, now play me
A happy tune on your Ukulele."

Jean-Louis.

Mon Croissant de Lune


A Mírian

Tu es
le croissant de lune
Illuminant de paillettes dorées
Mes nuits blanches passées
À arpenter les dunes
De sable
Infranchissables
Jusqu’au courant libérateur
Menant au bas de l’équateur

Tu es
le parfum exquis,
Ma fleurs aux mille pétales
Que la brise fraîche de tes yeux
Exhale en paroles caressantes
Me guide hors du dédale,  
Et chasse la brume étouffante
De l’implacable et cruel oubli,

Tu es
 le miroir limpide
Qui se meut constamment
Dans la clarté lucide
De mon enchantement.

Jean-Louis.



A Rebelião das Massas. José Ortega y Gasset

(Interesante ponto de vista)
Se você concorda, compartilha
Senão,  compartilha também
Se não compartilha, você perde a chance de expressar sua voz, e como não represento o governo, não posso saber seus pensamentos. Jean-Louis. 

Extraido de Prólogo para Franceses

Sobre o direito.
(Achei muito interesante saber o que pensava um dos mais ilustres Filósofos europeos sobre o tema de direito cual nossa época é muito usado como se fosse nossa propriedade exclusiva sem nem compreender seu sentido próprio). The Blogger.

É de somenos importância que a esse espaço histórico comum, onde todos os povos do Ocidente se sentiam como em sua casa, corresponda um espaço físico que a geografia denomina Europa. O espaço histórico a que aludo mede-se pelo raio de efetiva e prolongada convivência - é um espaço social. Ora, convivência e sociedade são termos equivalentes. Sociedade é o que se produz automaticamente pelo simples fato da convivência. De sua essência e inelutavelmente esta segrega costumes, usos, línguas, direito, poder público. Um dos mais graves erros do pensamento "moderno", cujas salpicaduras ainda padecemos, tem sido confundir a sociedade com a associação, que é, aproximadamente, o contrário daquela. Uma sociedade não se constitui do acordo das vontades. Ao contrário, todo acordo de vontades pressupõe a existência de uma sociedade, de pessoas que convivem, e o acordo não pode consistir senão em precisar uma ou outra forma dessa convivência, dessa sociedade preexistente. A idéia da sociedade como reunião contratual, portanto jurídica, é o mais insensato ensaio que se fez de pôr o carro adiante dos bois. Porque o direito, a realidade "direito" - não as idéias sobre ele do filósofo, jurista ou demagogo - é, se me permitem a expressão barroca, secreção espontânea da sociedade e não pode ser outra coisa. Querer que o direito reja as relações entre seres que previamente não vivem em efetiva sociedade, parece-me - perdoe-se-me a insolência - ter uma idéia muito confusa do que é o direito. 

Não deve estranhar, por outra parte, a preponderância dessa opinião confusa e ridícula sobre o direito, porque uma das máximas desditas do tempo é que, ao toparem os povos do Ocidente com os terríveis conflitos públicos do presente, se encontraram aparelhados com instrumental arcaico e ineficiente de noções sobre o que é sociedade, coletividade, indivíduo, usos, lei, justiça, revolução, etc. Boa parte da inquietação atual provém da incongruência entre a perfeição de nossas idéias sobre os fenômenos físicos e o atraso escandaloso das "ciências morais". O ministro, o professor, o físico ilustre e o novelista soem ter dessas coisas conceitos dignos de um barbeiro suburbano. Não é perfeitamente natural que seja o barbeiro suburbano quem dê a tonalidade do tempo? (2)

A Rebelião das Massas. José Ortega y Gasset


Extraido do Prólogo para Franceses.

(Prezado leitor, você não precisa de um Doutorado em Linguística para deixar um pensamento seu expresando sua opinião, qualquer que seja). The Blogger.


Definimos a linguagem como o meio de que nos servimos para manifestar nossos pensamentos. Mas uma definição, se é verídica, é irônica, encerra tácitas reservas, e quando não a interpretamos assim, produz funestos resultados. Assim esta. O de menos é que a linguagem sirva também para ocultar nossos pensamentos, para mentir. A mentira seria impossível se o falar primário e normal não fosse sincero. A moeda falsa circula apoiada na verdadeira. No final das contas, o engano vem a ser um humilde parasita da ingenuidade.

Não; o mais perigoso daquela definição é o acréscimo otimista com que costumamos escutá-la. Porque ela mesma não nos assegura que mediante a linguagem possamos manifestar, com suficiente justeza, todos os nossos pensamentos. Não se arrisca a tanto, mas tampouco nos faz ver francamente a verdade estrita: que sendo ao homem impossível entender-se com seus semelhantes, estando condenado à radical solidão, esgota-se em esforços para chegar ao próximo. Desses esforços é a linguagem que consegue às vezes declarar com maior aproximação algumas das coisas que acontecem dentro de nós.
Apenas. Mas, habitualmente, não usamos estas reservas. Ao contrário, quando o homem se põe a falar, isto faz porq ue crê que vai poder dizer tudo que pensa. Pois bem, isso é o ilusório. A linguagem não dá para tanto. Diz, mais ou menos, uma parte do que pensamos e põe uma barreira infranqueável à transfusão do resto. Serve bastantemente para enunciados e provas matemáticas; já ao falar de física começa a ser equívoco e insuficiente. Porém quanto mais a conversação se ocupa de temas mais importantes que esses, mais humanos, mais "reais", tanto mais aumenta sua imprecisão, sua inépcia e seu
confusionismo. Dóceis ao prejuízo inveterado de que falando nos entendemos, dizemos e ouvimos com tão boa fé que acabamos muitas vezes por não nos entendermos, muito mais do que se, mudos, procurássemos adivinhar-nos.


Esquece-se demasiadamente que todo autêntico dizer não só diz algo, como diz alguém a alguém. Em todo dizer há um emissor e um receptor, os quais não são indiferentes ao significado das palavras. Este varia quando aquelas variam. Duo si idem dicunt non est idem. Todo vocábulo é ocasional (l). A linguagem é por essência diálogo, e todas as outras formas do falar destituem sua eficácia. Por isso eu creio que um livro só é bom na medida em que nos traz um diálogo latente, em que sentimos que o autor sabe imaginar concretamente seu leitor e este percebe como se dentre as linhas saísse u'a mão
ectoplástica que tateia sua pessoa, que quer acariciá-la - ou bem, mui cortesmente, dar-lhe um murro.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Le Passage du Temps


Le Passage du Temps

Poème original d'Ester 22/01/2011
Para ler o poema original da Ester em Português, clique aqui:


http://manifesto-interno.blogspot.com/

Au fil des années, des refrains enfantins,
La fraicheur des saisons, les chants d’oiseaux
Les sentiments épelés, les lueurs nocturnes diluées
De confessions furtives, maintes fois devinées...

Une trame d’énigmes, tendresses préssenties
Comme si la simplicité se dévoilait
Et que seul l’amour  exhibait sa lucidité
Penser ce que l’autre n’osait exprimer…

Combler le vide de silences,
Combien de mots murmurés
Saturaient le manque d’existence?

La pensée de paroles protégées
Éveille des rêves de chimères apprivoisées
Peut-on choisir un moment unique
Épanouissement du néant chaotique?

Et cependant, les secrets révélés
Dans un regard scellent leurs empreintes

C’est le passage du temps qui m’a réveillée…


Ester
Traduction du Portugais de Jean-Louis Mondon.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Through the Storms of Life with Jesus

Hope for the storms


Exclusive: Greg Laurie points out calamities sometimes come after obedience

Posted: January 22, 2011
By Greg Laurie

On Jan. 24, 1986, a significant archaeological discovery was made in a seaside village in Galilee: a first-century fishing boat. This ancient vessel, called The Jesus Boat, dates back to the time of Christ. No one knows for certain whether it was a boat Jesus and his disciples used, but certainly it is a boat that would have been similar. It is very simple, very primitive, and would have been a very frightening place to be during a storm.

So it is understandable that the disciples would have been terrified when they found themselves on the water in the middle of a storm. In fact, the disciples had followed Jesus right into the storm. Matthew's Gospel tells us, "Now when He [Jesus] got into a boat, His disciples followed Him. And suddenly a great tempest arose on the sea. ..." (Matthew 8:23–24)

Sometimes when storms come into our lives, when hardships come, we may think it is because we are doing something wrong. But notice these disciples were in the will of God. The storm came as they were obeying Jesus, not because they had disobeyed Him. And sometimes calamities will come because of your obedience, not your disobedience.

This reminds us that storms will come into our lives. The storm the disciples were facing way was a serious one – so serious in fact that these seasoned sailors began to fear for their lives. In the original Greek, the word that is used to describe this storm is also used to speak of an earthquake. So it was a megastorm. One translation from Mark's Gospel says the boat was filling with water, and they were in great danger. These were guys who knew how to navigate rough seas and knew how to use their equipment. And they were panicking. Meanwhile, Jesus was sound asleep in the lower part of the boat.

Does it ever seem to you as though God is asleep, that he is not paying attention? It can be rather disheartening when someone falls asleep when we need them. In the technical sense, Jesus, weary from a hard day's work, was asleep. But in the broader sense, God never sleeps. Psalm 121:4 says, "Behold, He who keeps Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep" (NKJV). God is always on watch, always on duty, always paying attention. Jesus was asleep because he rested confidently in the will of God the Father.

The disciples cried out to Jesus, "Lord, save us! We are perishing!" (Matthew 8:25). And that is what we need to do when we find ourselves in the midst of a storm. We are not going to offend or hurt God by crying out to him. Tell him how you are feeling. Sometimes I think we feel as though we need to sanitize all of our prayers. God wants to hear you speak from your heart. He wants honest prayer. Even Jesus, hanging on the cross, cried out, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"

You can be sure the disciples had tried everything possible to get out of the mess they were in. But after exhausting all their efforts, they knew Jesus was their only hope. Sometimes in life, God will allow us get to the end of our rope to come to the end of ourselves so that we will cry out to him. And when we cry out to him, he is always ready to answer. God says, "He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him and honor him" (Psalm 94:15).

Although the shrieking of the storm did not wake Jesus, the cry of his disciples did. He heard their cries, and he responded by rebuking the storm. Suddenly everything calmed down. Matthew's Gospel tells us that it was "a great calm" (8:26).

God has his purposes in the storms of life. Maybe you are in a storm right now and have cried out for it to stop, but it hasn't. In fact, maybe it has gotten worse. You are wondering why God is allowing it. There are no easy answers to that question, but know this: where there are no trials in life, there will be no triumphs. It has been said the hammer shatters glass, but it forges steel. And often in the hardships of life, great things will come.

Many times when you go through difficulties in life, there are things you will learn and discover that you would not learn anywhere else. Psalm 23 is a well-loved passage of Scripture that opens with a pleasant scene: "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters" (verses 1–2). It was written by a shepherd named David, who knew a little bit about sheep. But David continues, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me" (verse 4).

"Hold on," we say. "I signed up for green pastures and still waters – not for dark valleys. I don't do valleys." While there will be those times God will take us to green pastures and still waters, he will lead us into valleys as well. And it is through those valleys we learn important lessons, because fruit does not grow on mountaintops; it grows in valleys. And here is the secret of making it through the valleys of life, the storms of life: Know that you are not alone, and God will get you through whatever you are facing.

David said, "I will fear no evil; for You are with me" (Psalm 23:4). That is the hope. That is the promise: God is with you. And He is with you in your storms.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Peace, Be Still

Peace, Be Still
Written and published by Jean-Louis 



For he spoke and stirred up a tempest
that lifted high the waves.   

They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths;
in their peril their courage melted away.

They reeled and staggered like drunkards;
they were at their wits’ end.  

Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,
and he brought them out of their distress.  

He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed. 
They were glad when it grew calm,
and he guided them to their desired haven.
Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for mankind.  

Let them exalt him in the assembly of the people
and praise him in the council of the elders.
Psalm 107: 25-32.


Land, land, a chorus of sea-gulls heralded
Childlike, dolphins merrily pirouetted
Celebrating with the rhythm of whimsical waves
This propitious journey with delighted voyagers.
-----
Suddenly, a venomous storm
Escaping from an Aeolian windbag,
Stinking and green with envy
Unfurled its fury on the peaceful seascape.
-----
The cloudy canvass thickens,
The undulating liquid walls
Rise, with threats of wrath.
Are we in this deadly dance moving
Toward an unavoidable shipwreck?
-----
The increasing tempest suspends
The harmony of the Mediterranean abyss
Feeding the human fear
At the thought that our last hour
Had chimed without any recourse. 
-----
The heart in this reflex instant
When the compass swings wildly
Remembers that God exists
And humbly kneels
Asking for pardon and mercy.
-----
Past is the time for good deeds
No more “Our Father”, “Hail Mary”
Nor "Aum Shanti" to recite on beads
The re-winded video unfolds as lightning
On the screen  of the impotent memory.
-----
The refuge of conscience is no use.
No more hypocrisy, no more subterfuge
Everything is in the scales
No more karma, no more bribes
Here come the angel executioner
Executing the sentence 
Or eternal life and its recompense.
-------
As I was quietly contemplating my lot
A soft voice, above the furious wind
Asked me the following:
“Tell me, “can you with one word, calm the waves?
Perhaps, are you the captain of your own ship?
Can your eyes pierce the dark clouds
And predict your own future?”
------
Recognizing the divine presence
 and the still small voice
That saved my life many times before,
From war, from human violence,
From unchained elements,
I left my appeased heart
In the hands of my Savior
Who invites all sinners to come and rest
In the secure love that emanates 
from the mercy seat surrounded
by the wings of the worshiping cherubim.
------
At last, my struggle calmed by his Word
The ship arrived safe at port
Where, from the beginning
It was following its intended course.

Psalm 46

By Jack Kelley from http://gracethrufaith.com

Posted in: Bread From Heaven

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells. God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at the break of day. Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; he lifts his voice, the earth melts.
The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Come and see the works of the LORD, the desolations he has brought on the earth. He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear, he burns the shields with fire. “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”
The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.

The first lines of this Psalm have always had a calming effect on me. They were among my first adult memory verses. Every time I face difficulty or uncertainty, they spring automatically into my mind and I am strengthened. It’s a promise God has made to us, the promise of a haven of peace in a world of turmoil.

The writer of Hebrews used a nautical analogy to bring the same point home. He wrote, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf.” (Hebr.6:19-20) In the time before harbors could be dredged to accommodate large ships, sailors of these ships had to anchor outside the harbor and transfer passengers and goods to small boats to get them ashore. Because wind and currents would work to tear a ship loose from its moorings in open seas, there was always a danger that they’d find themselves cast adrift. To prevent this, they attached their anchors to long lines and then rowed them into the harbor where they set the anchor in calm waters unaffected by winds and currents. Though the waves rolled and the wind blew out where the ships were, the anchors remained firmly set beneath the quiet waters of the harbor, keeping the ship secure.

In Hebrews 6 the writer explains the security afforded to one who trusts solely in the Lord’s completed work on the cross. Using this nautical analogy, he pictures the anchor of our soul planted firmly in the Holy of Holies. Protected from the winds of controversy and the currents of deceit, our blessed hope is secure, anchored in the Throne Room of the Creator by our Lord Jesus, Who sprinkled His blood there on our behalf. Let the storms rage, let the waves crash. God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Hallelujah!

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Le Voyage ~~~ FAZ DE CONTA


Para ler o poema original em Português  FAZ DE CONTA da autora Ester, clique o link seguinte: http://manifesto-interno.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2011-01-04T06%3A40%3A00-08%3A00&max-results=3

Imagine que le passé enfante le présent
Que la voix et le sourire au fond du coeur
Demeurent une source inépuisable de tendresse,
Que le poème n’a pas rendu son âme
Dans la bifurcation du doute
Ou qu’il s'échappe dans les ruines de l’incertitude.

Imagine que la carte n’est pas déchirée,
Que le plaisir du partage est pendu
A des moulures de songes
Et ne gît pas dans des tombes sans écho,
Que la douleur s’exprime dans la musique oubliée
Et que le temps écoulé est un brouillard évaporé,
Que les battements du coeur restent constants
Et que l’enfance persiste pourtant
Même plongée sous le linceul des responsabilités.

Imagine que le rire et les larmes ne se connaissent pas,
Que la transparence n’est pas un miroir
Aux reflets de mots obscurs,
Que le sentiment est un voyage d’aller sans retour
Que la logique ne consiste pas en lettres ponctuées.

Imagine que les billets sont encore intacts
Et que les notes de musique continuent à s’égrener,
Que cette pensée non-conformiste et ingénue
Se nourrit de plénitude.
Que le silence devient métaphore et mot de passe
Pour tisser une nouvelle trame.


Imagine, mais sans feindre
Que nous serons heureux avec le peu familier
Et non avec le superflu hors-de-portée,
Que nous n’abandonnerons pas la chasse aux réponses
Que nos pieds fouleront à nouveau les lieux oubliés
De terre et de sable fin,
Que nous n’abriterons pas une indifférence pour les présages
Et que nous refuserons d’accepter la défaite.

Imagine que je ne tremblerai pas
Quand la porte s’ouvrira
Et que je verrai une main nommée Espérance
Faire un geste m’invitant à entrer.

Imagine …. un voyage sans fin.


Ester

(Traduit du Portugais par Jean-Louis) 

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Apaisement


"Il parla et fit lever un vent de tempête, qui souleva les flots. Ils montaient vers les cieux, ils descendaient dans les abîmes; leur âme se fondait dans leur malheur; saisis de vertige, ils chancelaient comme un homme ivre. Et toute leur sagesse était engloutie. Dans leur détresse, ils crièrent à l'Éternel, et il les fit sortir de leurs angoisses. Il arrêta, calma la tempête, et les flots se turent. Ils se réjouirent de ce qu'ils s'étaient apaisés. Et l'Éternel les conduisit au port désiré. Qu'ils célèbrent l'Éternel pour sa bienveillance, et pour ses merveilles en faveur des humains". Psaume 107: 25-31.  

"Terre, terre" , annoncent les mouettes,
Comme des enfants, les dauphins pirouettent
Au rythme des vagues capricieuses
Célébrant cette belle journée avec les passagers.

Soudainement, un maelstrom fielleux
S’échappe d’une outre éolienne,
Puant et vert d’envie
A la rencontre heureuse de la famille.

La toile des nuages s’épaissit
Les murs liquides ondulants
S’élèvent courroucés et menaçants.
Allons-nous dans cette danse macabre
Vers un naufrage inévitable ?

La tempête croissante suspend
L’harmonie de l’abîme méditerranéen
Alimentant l’effroi humain
A la pensée que leur dernière heure
Les attendait sans aucun recours.

Le cœur dans cet instant réflexe
quand la boussole s'affole
Se rappelle que Dieu existe
Et s’agenouille humblement
En demandant pardon et miséricorde.

Le temps des bonnes œuvres est passé
Plus de "Notre-Pères", ni de "Je vous salue Maries"
Sur un chapelet à égrener.
La vidéo se déroule fulgurante
Devant la mémoire impuissante.

La conscience ne sert plus de refuge
Plus d’hypocrisie, ni de subterfuge
Tout est dans la bascule,
Plus de karma, ni de graisser la patte
Voici que s’approchent l’ange bourreau
Et ses feux infernaux
Ou la vie éternelle et ses récompenses.

Alors que j’étais coi, contemplant mon sort,
Une douce voix  maîtrisant les vents furieux
Me posa la question suivante :
« Est-ce toi qui d'une parole calme les tempêtes,
Peut-être, es-tu le capitaine de ton propre bateau.
Tes yeux peuvent-ils percer les nuages
Et prédire ton propre avenir » ?

Reconnaissant la présence divine et la voix
Qui me sauva la vie maintes fois
De la guerre, de la violence humaine,
Des éléments déchainés,
Je remis mon cœur apaisé
Dans les mains du Sauveur
Qui nous invite à nous reposer
Dans l’amour sûr de son cœur.

Finalement, les vagues calmées par sa parole,
Le bateau arriva à bon port
Où depuis le début
Il suivait le chemin prévu.

Jean-Louis
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