Time is always too fast, before you look back, those enchanting purples have become the yellow flowers of yesterday. Perhaps feel that the world is too noisy, the soul has long been accustomed to quiet, accustomed to a pure ordinary heart, and thin words on the other side, looking for a soul habitat.
However, life makes us have to work hard in the noisy world, often forget to look back at the beautiful scenery, forget to be kind to ourselves, forget to give a greeting to our loved ones. I really want to have a place where I can settle my soul, where I can see the flowers blooming in my eyes, have a faint fragrance in my mind, and I can also have a long memory of you. With that fragrance, you can hope for a beautiful mind.
Fleeting years, blooming in the reincarnation of the seasons, promoting in the crisscross of light and shadow, it can be enchanting in full bloom, can also be in full bloom, facing the water according to the flowers. And words have always been the warmth of the soul, it can draw time, I like to give words to the soul, free travel in words, words bring me not only physical and mental pleasure, but also a kind of spiritual sustenance. It has become a habit to read my favorite words every day. Although the temperature is not high on a cold spring night, I still like to keep a unique coolness in my heart and speak to the words with a quiet heart and pear-like fragrance. As soon as I looked back, the tea had long been cold, but because of the company of words, my heart was as warm as the spring sun.
I use words to write a person's loneliness, I am glad the words bring me fragrance, let me beauty in the words, absorb nutrition. I wrote some thoughts and sadness on the plain notes of the years, waiting for the spring breeze to blow the mountains and rivers of the green north, for the swallows to say that there was misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, and for the Xiaofeng to blow over the Orchid Pavilion, there was a person who inadvertently read the poem I wrote, and could feel a trace of warmth and warmth, that is, April flowers bloomed.
Sitting on the brow of the season, guarding a curtain of spring, let the words comfort the pale soul, let the fingertip wind blow warm slightly cold mood, let the beauty of meeting quietly blossom in the bottom of my heart. Ying a touch of heart fragrance, feel the gentle breeze on the face, the time of grass and trees, like the flowers on the flowers of spring, neither correct nor beautiful, gentle the distance of that paper, aromatherapy the tacit understanding of cooking words between flowers. Some green plum past events are like broken flowers on the strange grass, inadvertently spread in the bottom of my heart, remember the words of the wind, remember the encounter of Yueqing Hebi, remember the affection of the red leaves when the water and sky are the same.
Silent night, as if only to hear the sound of potted orchids jointing on the windowsill. Like such a quiet time, you can think about your mind, you can read the words you like, and you can drink a cup of boiled water into a kind of coffee elegance. A person's Qinghuan is a flower blooming in serenity, with a faint fragrance and sweet self-knowledge. I imagined myself as the flowering tree written by Xi Murong, waiting for my beloved to pass by the tree, inadvertently looking back and smiling.
I want to be a bright woman, plant flowers and trees in my heart, graze in spring, and live a lonely life in accordance with my favorite rhyme, just like the enchanting beauty of a tree on the branches of spring.
A wind ran in through the cracks in the window, blowing my long hair and cheeks softly, making my tired body and mind feel relieved in an instant. A person's night, alone singing a song that only one person can understand, I use words to sing the persistence of this season, I seem to hear the flowering tree outside the window whispering, thinking of you is always in the night when there is no star and moon, there is drizzle, with aura. Those flowers and plants are full of life with sunshine and rain, so we walk all the way without thinking about which flowers will bloom in the next season, as long as you remember that there is a woman who sings gently with words stained with spring rain on a quiet night.
Curl of the spring breeze, blowing through the silent pavilion, the wind after the dust fragrant flowers fall, the rustling petals, so easily moved my heart eyes, gently touched my thoughts. Much to think, along with the spring breeze on the Momo, cruising in the direction of the heart, in the red and willow days of April, to an invitation of love; to sit quietly in a corner of time, will be a pile of thoughts in the palm of the years, carefully read the Bodhi in the heart. The love of the origin and death, the thoughts of the flowers blooming and Xie, are extremely gentle in the spring breeze, so that the words in the pen will no longer be sentimental.
Outside the window, the drizzle evokes shallow thoughts. I seem to hear you whispering in my ear. Many times, I just express my heart words with staggered words and fold my thoughts in the dark green poems. In fact, you and I, just need to be quiet, clear and happy, a look back, those who have passed, lost, warm, miss the scenery have been painted.
Listen to the stillness of this window, the spring rain boils, scoops a ladle of flower rain, boils a bowl of red beans, and listens to the melodious song through the night, that is the heart telling. You want me to be happy, with you I am happy, I will not let my brow heart full of sadness, I am quietly writing, writing to the affectionate spring rain, to the four seasons of flowers, to you silently on the other side.
Time to evening, the years are still verdant, many things after the rinsing of time, precipitated down in the bottom of the heart, no longer so persistent, with the continuous maturity of the mind, many times, the pace is no longer in a hurry, but still, like to smear some mood broken chapter at will in the spare time, the ink brocade that falls in the finger, has warm Antian. In fact, like the passage of time, there are too many beautiful lost in the hurry, there are too many regrets fall in helplessness. At this moment, no longer to read the entanglement and maple dust sleepless, only an euphemism and quiet, in response to the plain color of the ink marks, filled with a warm fragrance in the heart, even if the moment of warmth, is also eternal quiet.
Stay with the text for a long time, people will become peaceful and light, the light warm text is like a bosom friend of the heart, you can cry in the text, laugh in the text, and talk to the text, at this moment, the wind is fresh, the heart is bright, the flowers in the eyes are also beautiful.
Meet a favorite article, my heart is blooming like a lotus, those feelings expressed between the lines are not mine, but can always affect my joys and sorrows, the original text is a soul, so that heart-to-heart communication is so appropriate, although I have never met, but in the text can also understand. It is said that women who write words have a sensitive heart, in fact, reading good words is self-cultivation, bathe the rain and dew of words, taste intelligent life, constantly fill their own knowledge and experience, and be the best of themselves from the inside to the outside.
With the change of seasons, through the temperature of our fingertips, we hope that the years will be quiet, and when we pass through the summer fireflies and winter snow, we will usher in spring flowers and autumn moons. in fact, the years have never failed us, but teach us how to deal with all kinds of difficulties and opportunities.
Be a person who loves life, know how to love yourself, as long as the heart is looking forward to, along the sun and rain, will usher in the spring blossoms. Be a compassionate woman, do not sing the dirge of the years, do not write the cool world, do not say the swallow to the flowers, only follow the morning light of one meter of sunshine, with clear eyes, go to an appointment with a dewy heart.
/ the moonlight of the lotus pond
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