{"id":13437,"date":"2021-02-05T15:17:10","date_gmt":"2021-02-05T12:17:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=13437"},"modified":"2021-02-05T15:17:10","modified_gmt":"2021-02-05T12:17:10","slug":"spatii-culturale-nr-62-5","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=13437","title":{"rendered":"Spa\u021bii culturale nr. 62 (5)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Mihaela GR\u0102DINARIU<\/strong>
\n\"\"

POEME<\/strong><\/p>\n

*
\nUrletul p\u0103durii, urletul de lup,
\nPrizonier \u00een temni\u021bi ve\u0219nic d\u0103r\u00eemate,
\nAura cenu\u0219ii fragedului trup
\nSe tope\u0219te-n blidul ultimului frate,<\/p>\n

Gheare peste gheare, portativ-c\u0103lu\u0219,
\nVerdele din ap\u0103 \u00eensetat se stinge,
\nR\u0103d\u0103cini amare nasc sub prag \u0219i u\u0219i
\nPui de lup nevolnici, ne-ndulci\u021bi cu s\u00eenge…<\/p>\n

\u00cenc\u00eelcit prin coasta ultimului veac
\nLupul cel din mine mu\u0219c\u0103 f\u0103r\u0103 vlag\u0103.
\nBlana de pe umeri iute o dezbrac,
\n\u00cenvelind cu d\u00eensa spaima mea \u00eentreag\u0103,<\/p>\n

Iar \u00een nop\u021bi cu norii turl\u0103 peste cer
\n\u00cen grumaz se-ndeas\u0103 luna cenu\u0219ie.
\nLupul meu cel geam\u0103n tremur\u0103 stingher
\nR\u0103stignit pe-o cruce nemiloas\u0103, vie…<\/p>\n

*
\nM-a\u0219tep\u021bi sub strune de l\u0103ut\u0103 grea,
\nT\u00eemplar \u00eendr\u0103gostit de carnea mea.<\/p>\n

Din dalt\u0103 se scutur\u0103 lumina,
\nR\u0103s\u0103rit rupt cu anas\u00eena.<\/p>\n

A\u0219chii se-ngr\u0103m\u0103desc \u00een cerdac,
\nCulcu\u0219 nop\u021bilor de leac,
\nNop\u021bi de z\u0103cut, de lingoare.<\/p>\n

Pune-mi la cap lum\u00eenare
\nDe ap\u0103-nvolburat\u0103 \u0219i rea…<\/p>\n

Aici doar \u00eentunericul m\u0103 mai vrea.
\nNegru din negru, p\u0103m\u00eent din p\u0103m\u00eent.<\/p>\n

T\u0103cerea-mi sfarm\u0103 oasele, url\u00eend
\nUn c\u00eentec de z\u0103pad\u0103 \u0219i ger,
\nDe biet t\u00eemplar, cioplind statui prin cer,
\nStatui de carne grea \u0219i de-al\u0103ut\u0103.<\/p>\n

Doar suflet orb \u021b\u0103r\u00eena-mi \u00eemprumut\u0103.<\/p>\n

*
\nColind p\u0103g\u00een, de m\u0103r din paradis,
\nDe \u0219arpe ibovnic, pe spate scris
\nCu legi-poeme-ntr-un pastel fugar.<\/p>\n

Hai, \u00eengere, la mine pe hotar…<\/p>\n

Acolo, pe sub pietrele t\u00eer\u00ee\u0219
\n\u0218i-ascunde moartea bunul m\u0103cini\u0219,<\/p>\n

Hai s\u0103 ne tupil\u0103m pe sub nalbe,
\nS\u0103 nu ne g\u0103seasc\u0103 babele-oarbe,
\nSau mai bine \u00eentr-o creang\u0103 de prun…<\/p>\n

Hai, \u0219arpe, colinda s-o spun!
\nS\u0103 zic de na\u0219teri f\u0103r\u0103 mame \u0219i prunci,
\n din cerul de sub noi, un solz s-arunci
\nDe icoane…
\n n\u0103vod \u0219i capcane
\n pentru irozii tulburi din veac<\/p>\n

De aripile arse m\u0103 dezbrac…<\/p>\n

Da, colind\u0103m dintr-un cap\u0103t, din altul,
\nNu mai \u0219tim s\u0103rb\u0103torilor saltul,
\nFlorii bat \u00een geam de Cr\u0103ciun
\nCu lerui-ler arvun\u0103 pentru drum,
\nDrum lascov, numai r\u0103d\u0103cini \u0219i cu tin\u0103.<\/p>\n

Hai, \u0219arpe-\u00eenger, gust\u0103 o smochin\u0103,
\nUn m\u0103r, o mu\u0219c\u0103tur\u0103, una doar.<\/p>\n

\u00cengr\u0103m\u0103dim lumina pe c\u00eentar.
\nPe-un talger noi. Pe cel\u0103lalt, cu zorii,
\nColinde-n agonie, iluzorii\u2026<\/p>\n

*
\nSorior au so\u021bior?
\nDegete se-ncurc\u0103-n nor,
\nNor cusut cu semn la gur\u0103,
\nPloilor \u00eencurc\u0103tur\u0103…<\/p>\n

Ploi \u00een cas\u0103, ploi pe-afar,
\nLa r\u0103scruci de s\u0103rindar.<\/p>\n

Printre nop\u021bile de puf
\nNumai \u00eengeri \u0219i z\u0103duf,
\nC\u00eercota\u0219, pe sub cear\u0219af,
\nPl\u00eenge-un \u00eenger tipograf
\nPentru litere \u00een ie
\nLa vreme de cununie…
\nMai \u00eencolo, sub arip\u0103,
\nAltul tremur\u0103 \u00een prip\u0103,
\nSp\u0103im\u00eentat de nunt\u0103-n post…<\/p>\n

\u00cengere f\u0103r-de-ad\u0103post!
\nIat\u0103, noaptea cea dint\u00eeie
\nPune muzici c\u0103p\u0103t\u00eeie,
\nRu\u0219ineaz\u0103-\u021bi ochii to\u021bi
\nPe-ntuneric de trei co\u021bi,
\nF\u0103r\u0103 lun\u0103, f\u0103r\u0103 stea…<\/p>\n

Numa slove s-or n\u0103\u0219tea,
\nIspitind pe dup\u0103 nor:
\nSo\u021bior au sorior?<\/p>\n

*
\nCr\u0103ciun descolindat \u00eentr-o pl\u00eensoare,
\nNeterminat\u0103 ap\u0103 \u00een izvoare,<\/p>\n

O stea cu coada putred\u0103, l\u0103l\u00eeie,
\nUn Betleem pierdut \u00een b\u0103t\u0103lie,<\/p>\n

\u0218i magicieni pe corzi \u00eenz\u0103pezite
\nJongl\u00eend \u00een cer cu foc \u0219i cu aspide,<\/p>\n

T\u0103ceri \u00eemp\u0103turind t\u0103ceri albastre,
\nRadiografii pe sufletele noastre,<\/p>\n

Durere din dureri, n\u0103sc\u00eend durere,
\nTavane viscolite \u0219i severe,<\/p>\n

Interoga\u021bii alerg\u00eend naive,
\nLa judecat\u0103: g\u00eenduri-hieroglife,<\/p>\n

Din loc \u00een loc, doar \u021bipete-l\u0103custe
\nDin trupul f\u0103r\u0103 noim\u0103 dau s\u0103 guste,<\/p>\n

\u0218i dansuri \u00eempietrite, pa\u0219i pe bolt\u0103,
\nFulgi de cenu\u0219\u0103, timpului escort\u0103,<\/p>\n

To\u021bi \u00eengerii dormind \u00eentr-o mirare.<\/p>\n

Cr\u0103ciun descolindat \u00een dep\u0103rtare…<\/p>\n


\n Irina Lucia MIHALCA<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ie\u015firea din labirint<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ard clipe la temelia templelor,
\nurnind lespedea sim\u0163i
\nvaierul lan\u0163urilor.<\/p>\n

Mai departe de soare,
\ninsula virgin\u0103
\nap\u0103rut\u0103 din mare
\n(cu fiori p\u0103trunzi \u00een ea).<\/p>\n

Am s\u0103rutat v\u00e2ntul, crez\u00e2nd c\u0103-s ochii t\u0103i!
\nUn mesager nev\u0103zut,
\nv\u00e2ntul c\u0103l\u0103tor mi-a d\u0103ruit s\u0103rutul.<\/p>\n

Parfum suav, mister printre stele,
\ndoar buzele tale \u00een vise!
\nMisterul \u00eenv\u0103luie
\nvisele tale,
\no lume unde pu\u0163ini au acces.<\/p>\n

Capcane de g\u00e2nduri
\ndesplete\u015fti spre m\u00e2ine,
\n\u00eenaintezi
\n\u00een flac\u0103ra stins\u0103 a tor\u0163ei,
\nprintre voci,
\nrespira\u0163ia ei \u00ee\u0163i arde oxigenul.<\/p>\n

Dou\u0103 clipe-i separ\u0103 \u2013
\nat\u00e2t de aproape \u015fi-at\u00e2t de departe…<\/p>\n

Blocat printre ruine,
\npa\u015fii lui c\u0103lcau peste el.<\/p>\n

Ea trebuie s\u0103 rea\u015feze
\nmozaicul pieselor,
\n\u015foptind o chemare.<\/p>\n

Aripile grele
\n\u00ee\u015fi continu\u0103 zborul
\nspre zenit.<\/p>\n

\u2013 lumin\u0103 str\u00e2ns\u0103 \u00een cercul iubirii \u2013<\/p>\n


\nAngi Melania CRISTEA <\/strong>
\n\"\"

Antiart\u0103 <\/strong><\/p>\n

s\u00e2ngele meu slav construie\u0219te ziduri de antisentimente
\ntu parchezi \u00een spatele teatrului na\u021bional
\napoi iei la pas centrul \u0219i \u00ee\u021bi pare c\u0103 vezi
\numbrele demitizate ale poe\u021bilor craioveni
\ncum fumeaz\u0103 din \u021big\u0103ri electronice
\n\u0219i \u00eencearc\u0103 s\u0103 aib\u0103 o via\u021b\u0103 birocratic\u0103
\nasedia\u021bi de rutine \u0219i de metaiubiri<\/p>\n

am m\u00e2inile lipite de omopla\u021bii t\u0103i pulsez ca la imperius \u00eens\u0103 descop\u0103r \u00een tine
\nmediocritatea clipei saliva amar\u0103 cu care
\n\u00ee\u021bi \u00eentoarce ceasul
\ntu deverbalizezi partea mea yoyo \u0219i din toat\u0103
\naritmia \u021bii str\u00e2ns \u00een palme
\nfashionismul meu iconic
\nantisentimentele prin care te-am a\u0219ezat \u00een
\nlivrescul zilei<\/p>\n

se face politic\u0103 \u0219i demonii urbei beau la taverne
\nfalii de existen\u021b\u0103 plutesc crepuscular
\niar \u0219i iar rom\u00e2nismul se propag\u0103 \u00een eter
\niar eu simt cum dematerializarea politicului \u0219i a cuv\u00e2ntului
\nsap\u0103 gropi funerare <\/p>\n

tu vei fi \u00eentotdeauna copacul cu r\u0103d\u0103cini
\n\u00eenfipte \u00een beton
\nacel lemn ud din care fabrici ore \u00een timp ce dezavuezi arealul
\nc\u0103lare pe retina unui timp-voiajor
\nte voi citi prins\u0103 \u00een capcana ora\u0219ului \u00eennobilat de func\u021bionari publici \u0219i de arti\u0219ti veleitari
\ncu s\u00e2ngele meu slav manifest #antiprozaism<\/p>\n


\nMalaxor<\/strong><\/p>\n

poetul \u00een \u00eemp\u0103r\u0103\u021bia lui cu doctori minus \u0219i cu mii de oameni depresivi
\npoetul el acest magnat al timpurilor viitoare
\nsimte jigodiile vie\u021bii \u0219i ace\u0219ti neica-nimeni ai politicii sau ai poeziei
\ncare parvin \u0219i acapareaz\u0103 spectrul lumii prezente<\/p>\n

\u00eentr-un vesnic delirium tremens poetul scade factura vie\u021bilor trecute \u0219i \u00ee\u0219i \u00eenva\u021b\u0103 corifeii
\nc\u0103 Platon nu este vreun grec ce danseaz\u0103 sirtaki
\niar democra\u021bia nu este totuna cu falocra\u021bia
\ndamele au p\u0103truns \u00een aula magna universul
\nconspir\u0103 \u0219i se nasc tot mai multe femei
\ncare conduc avioane sacrific\u0103 b\u0103rba\u021bii \u0219i scriu o poezie-manifest
\npruncii lor nu sem\u0103n\u0103 cu niciunii p\u0103trund
\n\u00een malaxorul toamnei deja frustra\u021bi <\/p>\n

ordinea poetului este ordinea lumii \u00eengere\u0219ti
\ncu buni \u0219i mai pu\u021bini buni
\nfideli \u0219i mai mult infideli
\nsfin\u021bi pe de-a \u00eentregul sau de-a dreptul malefici
\npoe\u021bii au atacuri de panic\u0103 la fiecare respiro
\n\u0219i nu \u00ee\u0219i \u00eeng\u0103duie unul altuia niciun \u0219ah mat<\/p>\n

lumea universul acesta flamboaiant poate
\nexista f\u0103r\u0103 miros de poezie f\u0103r\u0103 ambrozia degustat\u0103 de
\npoe\u021bi
\ndar nimic nu poate fi mai simplu
\ndec\u00e2t un poet l\u00e2ng\u0103 o partitur\u0103 pentru dou\u0103 m\u00e2ini
\n\u0219i l\u00e2ng\u0103 starea de rezisten\u021b\u0103 a culturii<\/p>\n


\nPrint-screen<\/strong><\/p>\n

noaptea aceasta trecutul \u00eemi pare
\nmai palid ca obrazul cerului c\u00e2nd plou\u0103
\ndar noi ne ne \u00eengrijor\u0103m pentru c\u0103 grindina nu are suflet
\n\u0219i exact acolo unde apele scad
\nte po\u021bi \u00eeneca cu propria ta incertitudine
\niar anii sunt electrici ca ni\u0219te lampeduze
\n\u0219i numai tu po\u021bi vedea haloul viselor
\n\u00een care e\u0219ti un prin\u021b orb ce nu \u00eemi vede defectele <\/p>\n

cum vorbesc eu p\u00e2n\u0103 la lun\u0103 \u0219i \u00eenapoi
\nnu \u0219tiu nici m\u0103car \u00een biseric\u0103 s\u0103 tac
\numplu pere\u021bii cu acele cuvinte-stilet<\/p>\n

parc\u0103 ieri te iubeam \u0219i eram toat\u0103 un jem’enfiche
\naveam un vecin ipohondru care f\u0103cea dicteuri automate \u0219i to\u021bi \u00eel credeau poet
\npentru c\u0103 odat\u0103 ce se a\u0219eza la PC spunea: Opri\u021bi-m\u0103 !
\nnu-i pria lumea virtual\u0103 dar era drogul lui acel ecstasy infim
\npe care \u00eel ingera cu teama c\u0103 via\u021ba e un print-screen ieftin <\/p>\n

oare nu suntem internau\u021bi c\u00e2nd vine vorba de sentimente?
\nnavig\u0103m prin timp \u00eencoace \u0219i dincolo ca \u0219i cum am avea superputeri
\nminusculi \u00een roba noastr\u0103 de un alb perfid<\/p>\n


\nDemisol <\/strong><\/p>\n

zilele se recompun precum arta
\nsunt individualiste
\nnu exist\u0103 zile ci zilieri
\nnici ora\u0219e doar or\u0103\u0219eni
\nnici poezii nu exist\u0103 ci poe\u021bi
\ncare se scriu
\nsimpli scribi ai ora\u0219elor de rangul al treilea
\npentru c\u0103 numai \u00een ora\u0219ele mici
\npo\u021bi z\u0103ri arhetipul cuvintelor<\/p>\n

te \u00eeneci \u00een lumina unui timp vertical
\n\u0219i \u00ee\u021bi strigi aducerile-aminte
\nlumea aceea de 7 ori \u0219apte care
\nvine n\u0103ucitor de z\u00e2natic\u0103
\ns\u0103 \u00ee\u021bi cuprind\u0103 nefericirile pervertite
\n\u00een happy story<\/p>\n

primele ore ale vie\u021bii sunt versatile
\niau forma sunetelor \u0219i tonalitatea zborului
\nsunt zigzaguri peste monada cuv\u00e2ntului om
\ndin imperiul de clipe vine spre tine
\nca o travers\u0103 existen\u021ba eroic\u0103 \u00een ora\u0219ul de azbest
\nde unde doar zilierii cuvintelor afi\u0219eaz\u0103 noul status al vie\u021bii la demisol #respiro<\/p>\n


\nJoc de-a leap\u0219a<\/strong><\/p>\n

lumea \u00een care vie\u021buim are explozibil ata\u0219at
\ncare cum vrea autodetoneaz\u0103
\napoi \u00eentinde pe caldar\u00eem utopia scrisului
\nsub palmieri
\ns\u0103 \u00ee\u0219i \u0219tearg\u0103 t\u0103lpile de ea ca \u00eentr-un joc de-a leap\u0219a amatorii
\ncopii zdren\u021b\u0103ro\u0219i cer\u0219esc c\u00e2te o \u021bigar\u0103
\npentru p\u0103rin\u021bi care scurm\u0103 \u00een tomberoane
\nnicio umbr\u0103 nu umbl\u0103 dec\u00e2t pe poante
\nprin aula magna a iubirii de semeni<\/p>\n

setea asta de plus infinit umple raftul
\nvitrinei frigorifice
\naici vara b\u0103tr\u00e2nii ca ni\u0219te baobabi \u00ee\u0219i \u00eenfig
\nsemin\u021bia sub brazde
\nunde tractoare mirosind a ulei ieftin mimeaz\u0103 starea de extaz
\nce s-ar \u00eent\u00e2mpla dac\u0103 din pia\u021ba cu flori
\nscriitorii ar cobor\u00ee plini de lujeri
\ndragostea s-ar m\u0103sura doar \u00een decibeli
\niar luna s-ar pietrifica \u00eentr-un apus negru zglobiu\/ghem de lumin\u0103 prea str\u0103veziu\/?<\/p>\n


\nTrucurile nop\u021bii <\/strong><\/p>\n

noaptea asta gem pe pervaz gutuile spumoase
\nprin carna\u021bia fiecarei stele z\u0103resc umbrele perpetue ora de cules viile
\nharul acela teribil de a bea must din palmele vie\u021bii
\nca \u0219i cum ai fi sau nu ai mai fi poet
\npeste o lume de pet-uri \u0219i de ambrozie
\n\u00een funicularul mor\u021bii<\/p>\n

clopotul \u00eenser\u0103rii pa\u0219te printre catedrale \u0219i
\nnu se sfie\u0219te s\u0103 r\u0103scoleasc\u0103 ciulini
\ncentrul luminat de dragoste rode\u0219te \u00een pomi
\nadev\u0103ra\u021bi
\nmugurii plini pocnesc sub pa\u0219ii celor vii
\ncare rostesc cu trupul lor laic un ave maria
\npe voci \u00eenalte<\/p>\n

strugurii toamnelor plesnesc stropind
\nmarele zid chinezesc
\nce \u00eenconjoar\u0103 aura ora\u0219ului-cantalup
\nsetea lui milenar\u0103 de tineri poe\u021bi
\nvechile pavele din fa\u021ba statuilor amor\u021bite<\/p>\n

suflul bahic al mor\u021bii izbe\u0219te por\u021bile imaginare
\nale trupului meu ce na\u0219te printre castane
\nore de alintat vorbele la solsti\u021biu<\/p>\n


\nSnowboard<\/strong><\/p>\n

sentimentele precum un carusel
\nsunt un du-te-vino continuu
\ndoar umbra poetului scade toamna
\n\u0219i tot mai firav\u0103 se pliaz\u0103 \u00een moarte
\njoci la cacealma suflete care ai amor\u021bit
\n\u00een fa\u021ba z\u0103pezii
\nnimeni nu poate avea aerul tragic
\nal m\u0103\u0219tii ce \u00ee\u021bi sf\u00e2\u0219ie drama ta interioar\u0103
\namatorismul ei<\/p>\n

doctorul a deschis cordul sensibil al ora\u0219ului
\na prescris infuzii cu anii eclectici
\nperioada aceea postcomunism cu lipsa ei evident\u0103 de maniere
\ndar tu ai fandat l-ai rugat s\u0103 sublimeze
\nce era al viului cu ceea ce este al mor\u021bii
\n\u0219i din tot s\u0103 faci un crepuscul
\no vitrin\u0103 a min\u021bii tale cuprinz\u0103toare spart\u0103<\/p>\n


\nPetru SOLONARU<\/strong>
\n\"\"

Dac\u0103 umbra-\u021bi cerne…<\/strong><\/p>\n

-Ce r\u0103mas-a vie\u021bii\u2019 \u00eenfr\u00e2ngeri ori c\u00e2\u0219tig,
\nde torpoarea zilei d\u0103 spre-al nop\u021bii frig?…
\nBizuit pe tine, las\u0103-al lor izvor
\ncolbului \u0219i spuzei sub fatal torsig…<\/p>\n

Din rotundul lumii centrul afl\u0103-l doar,
\nCelui Ve\u0219nic cas\u0103, punct; de unde sar
\nspi\u021bele or\u00e2ndei spre obezi de chin
\n\u00een v\u0103dit\u0103 valma bunului zadar.<\/p>\n

Dac\u0103 umbra-\u021bi cerne \u0219i al s\u0103u \u0219irag
\nde n\u0103paste nines \u00ee\u021bi va \u021bine drag,
\n\u00eensu\u0219i Ziditorul te-a struni-\u00eendeajuns
\ns-o \u00eendrep\u021bi din parte-\u021bi ca \u00eentreag\u0103\u2019 \u00eenVag…<\/p>\n

\u00cens\u0103 fa\u021ba-\u00eentoarce la lumin\u0103 \u0219i
\npoart\u0103-\u021bi nemurirea peste-a nu \u0219i-a fi!…
\nFr\u0103m\u00e2ntarea-alung-o \u2013 \u00een cel din urm\u0103 pre\u021b.
\nTaci t\u0103cerii tale f\u0103r\u0103 a g\u00e2ndi!…<\/p>\n


\nNumai ea, petala…<\/strong><\/p>\n

Cel de se afund\u0103-\u00een sine ca pierdut
\nva g\u0103si un lic\u0103r ce s-a \u00eent\u0103lmut
\nchiar dintru ulciorul Marelui Abis
\nc\u00e2nd isc\u0103 porunca s\u0103 se fac\u0103 vrut<\/p>\n

nalt v\u0103zduh s\u0103-\u00eempart\u0103 ape sus \u0219i jos.
\nDac\u0103 \u00eentr-afar\u0103 num\u0103r mare-a scos
\nt\u00e2lcuiala fals\u0103 dintr-un sincer fir,
\n\u00een ad\u00e2nc principiul st\u0103ruie pios<\/p>\n

ca metamorfoza \u00een locul de-unde-a prins
\na fi \u00eenn\u0103scut\u0103 s\u0103 se-\u00eentoarc\u0103-adins.
\nEl se leag\u0103 \u021bintei doar\u0103 deznod\u00e2nd
\nvia\u021ba de-oglindirea g\u00e2ndului convins.<\/p>\n

Pe c\u00e2nd reci iluzii, v\u00e2n\u0103\u021bii de fum,
\n\u00eei fr\u0103m\u00e2nt\u0103 cuget spre un \u021b\u0103rm postum,
\nnumai ea, petala inimii, t\u0103c\u00e2nd
\nspune: -Toate-s seam\u0103n \u00een aici \u0219i-acum!…<\/p>\n


\n\u00cen egal smerin…<\/strong><\/p>\n

Numai dac\u0103\u2019\u00een vrai\u0219tea celor care curg
\na \u00eencremenire, simbolul teurg,
\nv\u0103l, va fi vedere,-atunci deja vei \u0219ti
\n\u00een\u021beles c\u0103 tace-\u00een tine-un Demiurg.<\/p>\n

Sens adaugi la sensuri d\u0103ruind mereu
\nchiar din desp\u0103r\u021birea de bastardul \u201eeu\u201d
\n\u0219i cu-aceste Cartea n-a uita nimic
\ndin zadarul vie\u021bii, ob\u00e2r\u0219it trofeu.<\/p>\n

E\u0219ti monarh pe lume, lep\u0103dat de ea…
\nCum nutre\u0219ti la Unul s\u0103 ajungi c\u0103dea,
\ncrudele contrarii trece-le de joc
\npoposind la Tronul scris \u00een Peruzea.<\/p>\n

Las\u0103-te \u00een m\u00e2na justului destin,
\ndar m\u0103car d\u00e2rzenii, os\u00e2ndiri ce \u021bin
\nde ml\u0103dia fapt\u0103, ia-le-asupra ta,
\ndep\u0103rtat de toate \u00een egal smerin…<\/p>\n


\nU\u0219a c\u0103tre ceruri…<\/strong><\/p>\n

U\u0219a c\u0103tre ceruri \u00een evlavii doar
\n\u00ee\u0219i cunoa\u0219te cheia fiin\u021bimii, chiar
\ndac\u0103 nimeni nu ia seama c\u0103tre \u021bel:
\ncentrul chibzuin\u021bei sub constant c\u00e2ntar.<\/p>\n

Fericirea\u2019\u00een mil\u0103 face timpul lung
\ntemeliei l\u0103mpii unde se disjung
\nprin r\u0103bdare umbre ce lumini acer
\nc\u0103tre Piatra scump\u0103-a filtrului prelung.<\/p>\n

Jos, nicio petal\u0103 fals\u0103 n-ar c\u0103dea
\ndin ograda crengii, sf\u00e2nt\u0103,-a Celuia
\nc\u00e2nd spre dou\u0103 fe\u021be coala-i de papir
\nba ne \u00eenviaz\u0103, ba ca ort ne vrea.<\/p>\n

\u0218oaptele nespuse-s calmului prinos,
\niar nefasta snoav\u0103 norocirea-a scos
\ndrum din spinii Rozei… \u00centre-a \u0219ti \u0219i-a fi
\ngoal\u0103 scafa min\u021bii tace maiestos…<\/p>\n


\nCel plecat \u00een sine…<\/strong><\/p>\n

Cel plecat \u00een sine nu-i a-l \u0219ti\u2019\u00eenadins…
\nAjung\u00e2nd ca flama ce demult s-a stins,
\ndar spre luminare-\u00eenc\u00e2nt\u0103 vastul drum,
\nscap\u0103-a se cuprinde de al s\u0103u cuprins.<\/p>\n

Folosind cuvinte le-a transcens ne\u2019\u00eenfr\u00e2nt,
\niar spre lumea goal\u0103\u2019\u00een tot ce este c\u00e2nt
\nnu s-a prins de fructul simplei, deci, mir\u0103ri,
\nci, crescut sc\u0103derii, se topi-\u00een Cuv\u00e2nt.<\/p>\n

\u00cens\u0103 ca rostire e t\u0103cere doar,
\nvel\u0103 f\u0103r\u0103 ape prin plec\u0103ri de par
\nve\u0219nic\u0103 ivire \u00eentr-un joc absent,
\nmiruit s\u0103la\u0219ul unui Singur Dar.<\/p>\n

Candid\u0103 oglind\u0103-at\u00e2ta de presus
\n\u00eenc\u00e2t curcubeie ce zadar i-au pus
\npre\u021bioase margini trec de venerat,
\nne arat\u0103-\u00een forme nume care nu-s…<\/p>\n


\nR\u00e2nduit al lumii<\/strong><\/p>\n

A-\u00een\u021beles n\u0103scutul pilda ce l-a vrut
\nc\u0103 \u00eent\u00e2iul, urmei, \u00eei opune mut
\njocul devenirii \u00een a se uni
\nca sf\u00e2r\u0219it de-absoarbe-acela\u0219i \u00eenceput.<\/p>\n

R\u00e2nduit al lumii sub un cerc sadea,
\nf\u0103r\u0103 \u00eencetare \u00een sine-ar repeta
\nvia\u021ba scris\u0103 mor\u021bii, dac\u0103 Cel \u00cenalt
\nc\u0103tre Punct rotirea-i nu i-ar \u00eendruma.<\/p>\n

Iad \u0219i Rai ursitei din mi\u0219care-au smuls
\nv\u0103lul num\u0103r\u0103rii, ca un strop spre mult
\ns\u0103 dezlege matca marii neclintiri,
\nsfoar\u0103, cump\u0103nindu-\u0219i duhul s\u0103u ocult…<\/p>\n

Iar c\u00e2nd toate p\u0103r\u021bii se \u00eencheie par,
\ncugetu-\u0219i \u00eentreab\u0103: – Ce-i Finalul dar?…
\n-S\u0103 te-\u00eentorci la focul de-unde ai plecat,
\nnu fiind cenu\u0219ii, ci lumin\u0103 doar!…<\/p>\n

\"\"

Mihaela GR\u0102DINARIU POEME * Urletul p\u0103durii, urletul de lup, Prizonier \u00een temni\u021bi ve\u0219nic d\u0103r\u00eemate, Aura cenu\u0219ii fragedului trup Se tope\u0219te-n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":10070,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"colormag_page_container_layout":"default_layout","colormag_page_sidebar_layout":"default_layout","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"video_url":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7,328],"tags":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13437"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/13"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=13437"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13437\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13441,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13437\/revisions\/13441"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10070"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13437"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13437"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13437"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}