The power of seasons promotes the quiet evolution of spring, summer, autumn and winter.
With good flowers, love and praise can be freely expressed.
If it is a malignant lesion, you don't have to cover your nose and bury it as fat.
It is foggy in spring, and it is cold to see flowers in the fog.
Some people say that with fog, flowers look more beautiful and have hazy and mysterious beauty.
The cold doesn't seem so bad, at a distance.
Some people got impatient and said they were destroyed, so they turned and left.
The spring breeze is very slow, much like the Tai Chi wind in China.
Slow is not weakness, but stubbornness that doesn't want to get hurt.
Catalyzed, hypnotized and urged, but I was awakened unexpectedly.
Pushed into the torrent of time, struggling busily.
Spring rain is clean and washes away smoke and dust, hoping to wash away human diseases and malice.
The stamen has tears, and I don't know why it falls.
I don't know who I scared.
This is a beautiful dream on earth. Every year, but not every day.