(1)
The setting sun was like blood, and the pine forest on the top of the mountain was stained with gold. The setting sun is about to set, which once again proves the ruthlessness of "time flies like an arrow and time flies".
Night is coming, and you sit silently in front of the cabin, waiting for the darkness to come.
This is your fictional mind cabin, it has a nice name called "Qingjing". You have the scene of the cabin in your mind: there should be a pond in front of the house, the moonlight caressing the water, and the trees behind the house must be overcast, the night wind suddenly rising, and the pine waves. The green grass grows around the house, and the night dew hangs on the tip of the grass, flashing crystal light under the impact of the moonlight; occasionally one or two wild flowers with buds adorn the green grass, making the wordless grass blossom with endless vitality; between the pond and the hut in front of the house, there must be a bluestone road, which reflects a trace of the desolation of years on the smooth steps.
After you have conceived your cabin, you sit alone on the stone steps in front of the house, staring at the ripples of the pond and listening to the wind of the wilderness of your heart.
The prologue of the night opened in silence. The wind slowly rose, and the ripples in the pond, under the action of the wind, turned into layers of small waves, gently patting the bank of the pond. Of course, the small waves in the pond can not be as exciting and frightening as the waves on the shore, but the soft and weak talk also has a long and lasting power.
You just sit on that step, enjoying the special scenery alone. You know this kind of appreciation will make you independent from the vastness. This kind of boundless, is because of each other's encounter, missed each other's best encounter period, so the boundless sea of suffering, has become the necessity of your loneliness.
They rise and fall on the boundaries of heaven and earth, shore and waves. You and I wander on the axis of expectation and reality, desire and conscience. We are eager to rely on each other. Mutual dependence is supposed to be the sincere entrustment of life and the intimate blending of the soul. However, the merciless sword of reality has long cut off the possibility of any reliance.
Although this is a sad song, but the desire of the heart, always looking forward to, can smell a wisp of rose fragrance. The shackles of reality cannot lock the window of the soul.
People always have all kinds of expectations, that is because the reality has already drowned too much poetry. When you and I are like a falling dead leaf, accidentally meet in the wind, this day is more than a look forward to, this time more than a kind of concern, the air has a misty fragrance, this life has too much moved.
The night covers your cabin tightly. Although the street lamp outside the window is brilliant, there is always a lingering shadow in your heart. This shadow makes you can't see the road ahead, and you don't know how it will wind forward.
Still, you don't feel confused. Because when you decide to sit alone in front of a cabin like this, you are fully prepared to sit and wait. Many years of wind and frost and snow and moon have forged you out of the habit of sitting and peeping blankly. Although it can not reach that kind of otherworldly state, there is still a demeanor of not startling things.
The night wind is sometimes big and sometimes small, and you can imagine that in the pond in front of the house, the sound of water waves must be sometimes high and sometimes low. It sounds like a sense of proximity and distance. In the sound of the water waves, there seems to be a warning in your ear: "the ethereal realm is the most beautiful dream." Why are you looking for too much? Breaking through the ethereal is not necessarily the other side of the ideal, a step forward may be an irreparable bottomless abyss.
You expect someone to come to your cabin, but you are also afraid that someone will actually come. Because, although you have unlimited passion in the expectation, but when you really face it, what you may give people is just speechless. This is not your ruthlessness, but that you have no words for the word of love.
You remember an essayist who once described love like this: "Love is the product of illusion and the source of awakening; love is the comfort of sorrow and the brother of death." Love is not only giving but also taking. In front of such a double-edged sword, when we face each other, how will you and I choose? What can you and I choose?
You don't want too much, it's enough to store a few words of me in your heart. With such a few words, you can get the sublimation of your soul in the endless aftertaste, so you have expectations.
You plant this expectation of examination as an epiphyllum. You know, no matter how carefully you take care of it all the year round, you never know that it will bloom that night. Epiphyllum, since you can dedicate beauty to the darkness with a lifetime of accumulation, why do you beg, does it really belong to you? When you wake up from the morning light that day and see its beautiful Corolla, you will not care about your painstaking efforts, because you have its everlasting green.
The stars are colorless, and the sky becomes old and haggard. The wind on the pond touches your whole body with a smell of mud. It makes you feel intoxicated, happy, excited.
Yeah. Isn't that what kind of wind I am? I came from far away. Fate let us join hands to sing "Hairpin Toufeng", the truth let us crazy song "this is ancient and difficult to complete". Wielding a pen to point out how beautiful Jiangshan is, and splash ink to comment on the ups and downs of history. There have been such surprises and encounters in life. It is for this reason that you sit alone in front of this cabin all your life, listening to the wind, what can be higher than this?
When you look up at the sky, you cry out from the bottom of your heart: "the breeze, please drive away my inner impatience; the pond, please wash the dirt off my body." Let you, in the fire of desire, refine a purity and holiness that cannot be blasphemed. So that you can watch this cabin quietly in a lonely and warm night all your life. Watching two equally kind hearts, burst out of conscience and human nature.
You sit in silence in front of the cabin of your mind, which you have made up for yourself.
(2)
Fate has been doomed, no matter what choice we make, as long as we are alive, we will float in the river of time, passing by the banks, or the undulating peaks, or the enchanting peach blossoms, cherish every fate and creation, and plant the happiness and warmth of the whole river. Only leave the full window of the sun, listen to the sun quietly walking in the hair, shoulders and heart of the sound, smell the fragrance of the sun in full bloom. Gentleman orchid said the sun is golden red, auspicious wood said the sun is green, I delivered the smile said, the sun is the color of love …... Therefore, as long as you pay attention to it, you will certainly find the color and taste of the sun.
So you walked out of the house quietly. Along the bright sunshine, sitting in the quiet depths, sitting in the simple words. Along the words, a person, back to the past, the village edge of the old willow is still standing in the dusk, holding the setting sun, silently polishing the path back home. The wind blows, and the slanting willows are like the arms summoned by my mother, persistent and old. A group of happy little friends have gone their separate ways now. Most of you are scattered in the fields. They follow the agricultural proverbs handed down by their ancestors all the year round, asking about the fields with deep and shallow feet all their lives, and their brown foreheads are full of ups and downs. You dare not talk to them for a long time, your hands are as empty and pale as your heart. For so many years, despite your repeated efforts, the vulgarity has confused your eyes.
You sit in the rare quiet of your own, just a small room, slowly aftertaste of the distant mountain. The scenery of the distant mountains is so beautiful, full of green slopes, full of flowers, birds, sheep, and streams with white clouds, you only go once, it will be engraved and treasured in your heart forever.
For you, I am the only one living in the whole mountain. I am the whole scenery of the distant mountains. I moved you with mountain-like persistence and sincerity, so you couldn't help yourself, and your heart kept running in that direction. Silent as a mountain of me, no matter when, whether you are idle or not, I will appear in your eyes, mind, sleep …...
You want to find a reason to fight my obsession. However, the stream bent in the arms of the mountain, peach blossoms in the spring smile, you inadvertently, fell into the warm eyes …...
In winter, the mountains are solemn and desolate, there is no whisper of birds, everything is silent, that silence beyond the hustle and bustle of the city, with a kind of weight, even the breath has become quiet and pleasant. Shout, there are echoes swing open, from the far and near into the eardrum, and the echo of memory seems to be far away, but also at some time will re-pluck the heartstrings, drill into the heart of those small past events, hidden dark at some time poking out the head on a large area of your state of mind.
You quietly guard those past events, watching us finally silent, you know that there are shadows in each other's world, do not need to remember, and will never forget.
The wind is blowing and it is so cold that you have to go back to that room. Although it is not big, you can still avoid the cold. At least, it is a place that belongs to you, and everything is so quiet and good. Standing on the top of the mountain, I can only stare at you from a distance or a clear or vague solo. I can't help sighing from the bottom of my heart: your cabin, I can't dream!
Author: wild Chrysanthemum in Taoyuan
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