Take a walk along the quiet path in the moonlight and look up at the tranquility in the sky.
Slowly, quietly, the moonlight sprinkled a road that seemed to be paved with silver light in the stream. On the surface of the water, the water waves from the breeze broke the silvery white into small stars bit by bit.
It jumps and reflects the stars in the sky.
The twinkling stars also reflect the ripples on the water. It's beautiful, and there are still a few strands of warmth floating inside.
The water is so clear that you can see it slowly flowing to the sky.
Until far away, I can't see clearly, leaving only an unspeakable sense of happiness in my heart.
Looking at the rays of moonlight falling slightly in the sky, I carefully took out the folded paper boat.
In the sky, the moonlight dyed the boat silvery white. Take it slowly and put it on the calm water.
The evening breeze blew quietly and the boat drifted away a little on the water.
Sitting by the stream, watching it go home, the white boat slowly melts into the endless night.
The boat drifted away, and the reflected silver light gradually blurred. In the dim light, I saw many silver fireflies flying, but in the sky, among the stars, there was a more blurred brilliance around.
The water surface is as smooth as yarn, although the breeze blows ripples.
The lights on the lighthouse in the distance are on, illuminating the direction of the ship and the road of life.
It, so far away, seems to stand in the sky, and the boat slowly drifts away towards the light on the lighthouse, drifting away with the wish it once promised.
Waiting for an answer, in the vast smoke, perhaps another kind of interest, flashing in the night.
Stand up silently, looking at the dark blue water and sky, still looking forward to the realization of your dream.
Finally, the ship was out of sight. Just turn your head slowly and smile in the moonlight. In my memory, this seems to be a perfect ending.
Cherish it, maybe you can wait until you want the story. In the night, the silver fire worm is still flying, and the clouds are lingering, setting off a silver road in the sky.
As transparent as snow, it is not only the soul, but also the persistence of hope.
The paper boat has gone away, and the memories are gradually elongated. Let it draw its bright curve in the dark and in its own space.
I'm leaving. I don't want to take anything with me. I only hope that I can understand my inner thoughts in a distant place in the sky.
Although it is so immature, there is no amount of sadness, or it may just turn into rain and accompany the moonlight.
Time goes by slowly, and the memory is no longer clear.
There is only a faint line of handwriting on the paper boat, "I am a bird accompanying the rainbow, hoping to fly with you."