Meiwen admired | The River of Fish, I came
Text/Kewen Wang
Yuyu River, here I come. When winter comes, quietly, I approach you.
Drenched in the last drops of rain in late autumn, I gently placed my scattered thoughts on the banks of your mountains and meditated all the way forward.
In your thoughts, the torrents that once ran wild with you slowly settled in your gentle arms.
Take a bunch of cool river water and taste the vicissitudes of life, after several twists and turns.
You shouldn't be surprised by my arrival.
I said that when the wind is a little lighter and the clouds are lighter, I will come to see you quietly.
And now, here I am.
Silent thoughts, like the rain of June, are filled with obscurity and poignancy.
Through the worldly defense line, memory, gentle turned the most beautiful time, the old age of reincarnation.
Slowly, savoring the scenery of a journey of landscape and water, allowing the soul to wither in the veins of autumn rhymes.
A season of contemplation, a season of death, deeply imprinted in the footprints of return, in the wind and rain only seek a peace of mind.
Perhaps, this is refuge, and this is my ultimate destiny.
However, the days of leaving you, the red dust is like a wave, which has invaded me.
Looking back, I lightly picked up a bookmark, and it was too late to write down the words and phrases that remembered you, that thin cold, those few wisps of light cold, had already covered the sky and the earth in early winter.
Pick up the brush that has been shelved for a long time, from the beginning to the end, and draw a circle of life, without half a color.
Presumably, the state of mind at this time is also like your slowly flowing body, so peaceful, quiet, and calm.
Like, in the evening night when the moon is bright and the wind is light, with the hand of his wife, walking on the riverside of your quiet river, and telling you about the sorrow and joy of this life, displacement.
The lights of the riverside people are no longer dim.
You are the one in the depths of the Mountains.
Many times, in the dark, I can always feel an inexplicable call.
As long as you look back, your figure is kind, it is warmth, and it is an indescribable sense of belonging.
(This article has been authorized by the author)
About author:Wang Kewen, pen name Chaoshi, is a native of Tuanjie Township, Qixingguan District, Bijie City, Guizhou Province. He loves painting and likes literature; his poetry and prose works are scattered in the "Selected Writers", "Selected Works of Chinese Literature", "The Light Songs of the Years", "Flowing Years", "Flowers All the Way", etc., as well as "China Prose Network" and other platforms.
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