Although the geese pass without trace and the years are silent, the fleeting time flows without a trace in every gap of life. The fleeting waves will always wash away in the distant heart, slowly swing away like ripples, and the petals fall gently in the wind. What makes our sadness, joy, sadness and joy turn into rain and dew, penetrate into the depths of our souls when we are unprepared, gather all our emotional experiences and launch a round of attacks in the quiet night? I explore and look for this magical power.
Outside the window, the rain kept falling.
Looking through the rain curtain, the fallen flowers are scattered into mud and crushed into dust. It suddenly occurred to me that the first touch in memory was produced under such a background.
Two years ago, I knocked on your door with a fiery heart, threw myself into my new life, and did a lot of stupid things, but I felt my heart throb. It was a rainy day, and the leaves of Rehmannia glutinosa piled up, which made me accept the baptism of wind and rain. I went back to work in a panic and looked at the soaked clothes. I am helpless, especially the general taste. I thought I was going to spend the day in fear, but I didn't expect you to come to me and watch me tremble all over. Without further ado, put your clothes on for me. Suddenly, a warm current came to my mind.
What hangs high in the sky is loneliness, and what falls on the ground is silence. I gave up and collapsed because I couldn't bear the failure again and again. Walking aimlessly on the path, I don't know where to go. Suddenly being hit by someone, I looked up and saw only a figure running into the distance. I don't know when a delicate card appeared in my hand:
If you don't speak, I will be silent and fill my heart with your silence. I want to wait silently, like a sleepless night under the stars, with my head down and patience.
The morning light will come, the night will disappear, and your voice will cut through the sky to bet from Jin Quan.
Those are your exact words. You should put wings in every bird's nest, and your music should bloom in my forest.
Finally, I understand that what I can never overcome is myself, and I have turned my life into a closed circle on paper. Holding the card tightly, I was no longer confused and embarked on my own path.
Life is about to turn a new page. Looking back on the past years, you constitute the most beautiful scenery in my life.
Editor-in-Chief: Where has all the time gone for my published prose? Gently pluck the autumn string? Is the pot of Milan in the office open? Is it really good to faint? Poetry, mother, Dali Lake, the beautiful pearl on the grassland, and Beidaihe looking at the sea are not in the same space. The pen names are all Beidou, but one is a cat and the other is Milan. The account registered a few days ago cannot be logged in, so you can only log in now. Can you help me correct it? Thank you)