Lotus is to look up. Although it didn't sprout on our heads, it was already in full bloom.
Lotus is born in ponds, rivers and lakes. From a distance, it's a head-up view, and from a close look, it's a look down, but I still think we're looking up. Because lotus has always been entrenched in our admiration.
When it emerged from the river of The Book of Songs, it was shy and astringent along the way. When it met Dr. San Lv, it would shine brilliantly. It was Qu Yuan's discerning eye that got to know the lotus flower and put it on his body, making it close to his skin, his ambition and his sentiment. For the first time, the image of him standing on a high mountain made Gao He transcend the secular vision.
Then he became attached to the poet and took root in the poem. It lingers in Li Bai's poems, hesitates in Du Fu's poems, meditates in Wang Wei's poems and sobs in Li Shangyin's poems. When it entered the Northern Song Dynasty, it plunged into Zhou Dunyi's arms and jumped high. Mud-free, clear but not demon, straight and not crawling outside, fragrant and clear, slim and graceful, far away but not ridiculous. Seven qualities, outstanding, have been capitalized in our hearts since then.
Lotus bears noble quality and poetic life, and stands before our eyes. In Yuefu folk songs, the phrase "Lotus can be picked in the south of the Yangtze River, and there are no lotus leaves" has turned over many sincere thoughts and burned many deep thoughts. And Mianmiao's singing in Xizhou Qu is as green as lotus seeds, as soft as running water, and lingering for thousands of years. While spreading Wang Changling's quatrains, the life of picking lotus flowers, in which "a lotus leaf in a skirt, hibiscus facing each other, rushes into the pool, and begins to move at the sound of singing", is a classic that we can never reach. Zhou Bangyan's dream of "canoeing, dreaming into Furong Pu" can only be fascinating. Perhaps we have strayed into the depths of the lotus root flowers, but we can't "wake up a beach of gulls and herons" just because we are drunk for a few cups, and live in the poetry of returning home at dusk.
Lotus is silent, but holding fragrant babble, blooming on the edge of the city, embracing the countryside and swaying behind our window. It will send dark green into our sight. Even in the hot sun, as long as you can calm down, there will be a gurgling chill flowing all over your body. It blows the lotus wind into your secluded room, and the lotus fragrance permeates your heart and spleen; Its pure patterns and colors, like a virgin's eyes, slightly even breathing, that kind of tranquility and serenity, make you unable to bear the slightest rudeness. At this moment, you think the lotus pond is a dream and the countryside is a dream. Weak dreams can only be slightly illuminated by starlight, elongated by frogs, and mentioned to willow tips by sudden cicadas.
When violet money is paved, when dragonflies stand on the pointed lotus, our eyes are on the water, shaking ripples, which are surpassed by the lotus again and again. When the sun sets from the sky, our eyes are under the lotus umbrella, enjoying the crisp sound of shadows and raindrops in the clouds. It is the rhythm of the drum, the rhythm of the gong, or a few plucked strings. It is leisurely, and even before she plays, we can feel her feelings.
Lotus walking in Tang poetry and Song poetry is an eternal scenery higher than our eyes; In the ink paintings of Ming and Qing dynasties, the lotus flowers are in full bloom and hung in the classroom, which is an art that we will always look up to; The lotus in Zhu Ziqing's and Yu Guangzhong's prose is graceful and restrained, and their prose is a shining shadow that stirs in the riverbed of our hearts.
Standing on the lotus, Nai gave up his own flesh and blood, which is the embodiment of justice and courage. Bodhisattva stands on the lotus. She is the sustenance of our ideal.
We can only sit under the lotus and look up all our lives, and slowly smash ourselves into blue lotus, red lotus and lotus seeds that can still germinate after being buried for thousands of years.
Looking up at the lotus, we are doomed to break with the world.