This year, life is written as "busy" as always. A little tired, but I also enjoyed searching for treasures among the fireworks. This year, I wear casual shoes most days. I want to take a step into a leisurely state of mind with steady and comfortable steps. This year, I have been using poetry to heal the confusion and pain of life. Time and time again, in the darkness of the night, in the warmth of the sun, and in my son’s clever naughtiness, I gently breathed out the intoxication of poetry. Tears of distress, wandering hearts, full-time happiness, and semi-closed troubles are all redeemed and sold by the torrent of reading and writing. This year, loneliness is the most enduring music. When most of the wind and rain require a person to breathe, thank God and the earth for allowing me to learn perseverance, understand life and death, understand desolation, and see truth and falsehood clearly. I began to like the sunset, the street lamps that stay on all night long at the street corners, the weeds behind the mountains, and I also fell in love with the sheep and pastures far away in the mountains. This year, what the earth has spread out is a ready-made road with clear curvature, covered with fallen leaves, and the scenery only has more thorns. Fortunately, I did not stop, but smiled and faced it, turning the thorns into scenery. This year, I have not stopped searching. Whether it is the poem of sunshine or the smiling spring, all the days are warm. I never stopped waiting, always believing that the flowers would bloom and the moon would be full. This year, my body was tortured, but my spirit was extremely full. The strong cell walls are very translucent. From the office to the bedroom, I can measure the footprints of sleepy people, but I am still looking for the secret of happiness. This year, I have been sweating profusely on the quiet path I want to widen. Although I am alone, I enjoy it alone. Although I imagined a grand and magnificent distance, for 365 days and nights, I only looked down at the magnificence that I could touch. When I open my eyes and look into the distance, the hazy and charming scenery calls to me in unclear places. In the new year, I will work harder. No matter how many injuries or tears I have, I will always be a single-minded walker. This year, the chirping of insects, the honking of cars, and even the ringing of bells on campus have taught me my mind, spirit, and art in a silent way. This year, I have forgotten the key many times and finally remembered it. I had to put on a lanyard; the electric car was shaking, and I realized that the tires were hungry and needed to be filled with air. This year, we did not hide from the thunder, but cast a brighter gaze on the center of the stage of life. Looking back gently, he has been greeting me with a smile for the 365 days I have passed. All the sounds that shook the world were the creation of the world at once. No goodbyes, just on the road again with more shining words and stars. I don't know why I fell in love with Su Dongpo, maybe it started from his sentence "I can live my whole life under the mist and rain", or maybe it started from "It is always suitable to wear light pink makeup". In short, poetry is about observing the heaven and earth, and poetry also contains true temperament. Chewing poetry is like chewing thousands of years ago. Every hot day, you can even hear the sound of wind and rain and the rustling of piano strings. Thinking of Dongpo layman is not a journey back, but a conversation before facing the wind and waves, and looking for a drumstick to beat the war drum. The beginning is an arrow that is about to leave the string. All eyes were filled with tension, and all hearts were beating in prayer. But I want to stay out of it. If possible, I can learn from Zhuangzi and take a leisurely trip. Love is savored slowly, life is boiled, boiled, stewed and steamed slowly. Just one sentence: See the scenery and enjoy the process, which is the true inheritance of Zhuangzi. The poet still has to do it. Even if I am more cowardly, there are no bones with arrows in the poem, but as long as it flows from my heart and flows into your heart, and completes such a connection and connection, all the characters and missions are said to have come to an end. Even, maybe the breeze can lead to a trickle of water, and the sun and the moon can grow shallowly. The warmth and coldness of human relationships and the coldness of the world make it more realistic. People's hearts can be seen more clearly. On the road of life, the water of Canglang needs to be washed not only for tassels but also for feet. A clear stream and a turbid stream must be a happy stream. It is indeed not easy. You have to slowly cultivate and meditate. Keep walking, just want to slow down, both in terms of pace and heart, hoping to see more scenery. Days are like a medicine simmered slowly over a low fire. The smell of medicine is soaked in poems, whether they are charming or charming, pure and graceful, bohemian, or jade trees facing the wind, which can heal the fireworks and the soul. When I finished writing these words, the whole world fell silent.
About the author Qingshou Yu, a member of the Chinese Poetry Society and a member of the Luoyang Writers Association (Editor: Deputy Editor)