Life is a mercy of love
-----sissy
=1=
——Maybe, leisure Peace and tranquility are both gifts of life. So, tranquility and restraint are also a kind of joy, which is appropriate to compassion. Then, an old time and an old person will be happy in vain, and having a heart is enough.
The purity in my heart is still the distance and poetry. The tide on both sides of the river must be flat, and those times are a little quiet and the water flows slowly.
There will always be tears that will make the whole city fall into tears, and there will always be moments when you grow up. Some things, if you don’t experience them, you will never understand. Thank you for paddling a tired boat back. You gave me full peace of mind.
Saying goodbye calmly, both gain and loss are deep in the soul. I couldn't let my mind wander, maybe I didn't have enough luck, and I never complained about anything. I quietly indulged in the fireworks, and read my thoughts to the person beside my pillow...
=2 =
The elegant moments, the soft smile in the corner of the eyes, the security tightly held in the palm of the hand, occasionally turning around, and the warm smile accompanying it, a heart , just be quiet in the company of another heart.
What is it that I ultimately want? Perhaps it is a heart that has always been with time and can go all the way to the end. Even if there are countless small heart marks, so what?
A pair of vicissitudes of hands, full of warmth, finally came together and planted a large field of sunflowers on the old rocking chair. Perhaps, this is the ultimate goal and meaning of life.
Perhaps, it can only be understood, but cannot be expressed in words
=3=
I wish that all the distant places in my life are silent, and the breeze is bright and the moon is quiet. Climbing up to the west window, what comes back is peace.
After years of weight, the vastness of choices, possessions and losses, but the gain and loss of the month, can be understood in a little bit of Zen. Coveting the morning sun, I carefully copy the appropriate chapters above the clouds. Those I don't love have left quietly. The petals in my heart have left the branches, and there is still a faint fragrance.
Every long night has opened, and a period of time has passed. Thousands of sails have passed on the paper, but the fire is still there, cooking the most beautiful dishes with meticulous care. Walking with the seasons, there is also the piety in the heart, gently embracing the enthusiasm of summer, a relationship, moving towards perfection and perfection, no longer staggering in the loneliness and willfulness of moths flying into the flame, and finally encountering the softness of time.
The goose-yellow innocence solemnizes the clouds and smoke in June, as if you have met another self. The tender joy is whispering in the light summer wind, and the comfort of fireworks is floating. The deep thoughts are still the posture of pilgrimage, chasing the moon and the moon together, we see through the fireworks together, and look back affectionately...
=4=
The encounter under the forest had no implicit confessions, only forbearing affection. In the end, we could not forget the entanglement under the eaves. Picking up the curtain of old dreams, the blue and white flowers were still broken all over the ground.
Those stamens that are as low as the dust, no matter whether you are close to them or not, they will always bloom and fall on their own. The concern of looking at the flowers by the water will finally warm the soul, and the greenery will quietly creep up the wall of the heart. . The emotions and Zen thoughts of the past half of my life have been cherished step by step in the blank space of life, quietly scattered in the early summer.
Some obsessions are never weak, those graceful ones are properly placed, the meaning of life is smeared in the subtle fireworks, and the half of the sorrow when the drizzle knocks on the window is properly collected, the rose in front of the Buddha is still The sheen of old times. After so many years, how many poems and distant places can still be cut out in the moonlight of the west window?
I never sighed, and the things I couldn’t have fell gently on the hometown of dreams, and finally met without a trace. The long-standing joy, whispering softly, will never let down the deep love in my heart. The smell of fireworks wraps around the shoulders, sweet and steady, sneaking into every moment, the deep and tenderness, lingering in the swirling fireworks...
=5=
The new life of spring is thought-provoking, Wrinkled a pool. The breeze turns the pages of the book, and there are all those lively flowers. Inside and outside the window, there are still large clusters of roses. In the response of the soul, some of the past have finally reached the beauty of promise. However, the thoughts of flowers in the mirror and the moon in the water can never touch the weight of the fireworks.
Let those heartbeats, those chases, stand quietly against the fire without speaking, it will be very beautiful. In the fragrance of time, I guard my cabin, and the corridors of misty rain are full of echoes of love. The deepest affection is hidden in the depths of the fireworks. The spring breeze is ten miles away, and the ordinary courtyard is gently majestic.
In the cherishment of sorrow and joy, the begonia flowers are still in full bloom. The unreasonable joy and the unreasonable tears all flow to the bottom of my heart. No one owes anyone, and the cost of life is destined to be the same. time.
If you like someone, if you can't walk around with fireworks, put an end to the entanglement in your heart in time. Don't always think about possessing some beautiful things. Being close from a distance is enough. If you love someone, give him stability. Stability is the intoxicating time. All the sorrows and joys are dried in that warm sun. That moment is the destination.
One day, those thoughts with heavy make-up and light makeup will join hands and gently retreat into the depths of the smoke...
=6=
Yu Qian When thousands of people meet, there is always a rose. The support of love is really not complicated. Gently tearing apart those things that cannot be done. The silence of the seabed will eventually tolerate all love and sorrow. What time has given is still That rose color.
All encounters are the gentle intentions of the heart, and all things will have an ending. Those imaginations will eventually be hidden in the dark blue mountains. Picking a summer flower and poeticizing a few volumes of poems, those gratuitous mistiness will surely be restored in the original gentleness, tranquility and silence. Slowly sweeping away the dust, a person's village is full of plain colors, meeting the Buddha's will, turning over and over again and gently falling into the depth of dreams.
Instead of spreading loneliness endlessly, it is better to chew slowly alone, which can also save the innocence that is gradually drifting away. Read yourself carefully, and the ending will still be filled with the fragrance of flowers. All perfection must be in the fireworks, so there is no need to worry about those who are separated.
Su Su Ran, some people, some things, I don’t want to say, the faint and spotless, no longer miss the blessing of fate, the fireworks still smile in the spring breeze...
=7=
If you forget yourself for someone at least once in your life, then why bother? Why talk about love after parting? If we can't be together, then it would be the best ending for me to finally forget you.
There is always some willing return in the moist breath, meeting each other in the water, walking gently through the goose yellow, and settling down in the enthusiasm of summer. What else can be said about the years that have passed by? In the loneliness of the years, there was also green love. With all the passion, every particle of dust that falls has the mark of rain. Instead of reminiscing over and over again, it is better to find something floating in the fireworks of a small boat. No longer looking back affectionately, no longer tender sadness. Thousands of years have passed by, and there is always a soft embrace wrapping life.
The misty rain and the faint fireworks will also make you inexplicably sentimental. The things that have passed away can never be brought back, and the accumulated feelings have withered into mud. Those sentimental pasts are still covered by the white moonlight, which is pure and a bit blurry. The white flower on the branch of time has already bloomed to the point where it is difficult to let go.
All the encounters that have happened have their own endings under the blessing of fate. In the end, the person who should appear in your life will whisper the warm sun and clear window and hold those hands tightly. , in the silent place, touching, the eyes are all quiet...
=8=
A grand grace ended quietly with the gentleness of Zen. Gently holding the fireworks in the world with you, I wish that from now on, there will be only peace and quiet.
Slowly accept the nostalgia, it is a kind of quiet foundation, chasing in the fireworks, making some people no longer imagine.
Some have come and some have left. Weaving words into dreams will keep your mind from being heavy. Being close to the stability of this world, some times are destined to be happy. Love is always there, and there is peace overlapping. Those past reunions without an appointment are still quietly telling each other's feelings. Those flowers on the other side, returning belatedly, are still in ecstasy for love, holding fireworks, being alone and undeclared is also a kind of perfection.
Gently caressing compassion, all kinds of encounters on the bridge, regardless of whose home they fall on, are the beauty of life. Detailedly describing the spring, summer, autumn and winter in each other's eyes, every agreement will not be wasted because of the cold spring, and the soft waves of love are all lyrical expressions.
Some emotions are getting whiter and whiter, and as time goes by, the inner vividness is so pure that it is unimaginable. If Xia He knew what I meant, the butterflies in my heart would definitely fly over again and again in the vastness of my heart. The vast sea...