Write poems dipped in the aroma of spring
Author | Photography | Liu Li Shuying Editor: Yi Meng Fangfei
Strange on the warm, gentle wind, coming from the southern model. Everything that has been dormant for a winter breaks through the earth under the call of rolling spring thunder. The wilderness of the field has a vigorous vitality in the blink of an eye.
In the spring of the years, there are always too many surprises, which make people rush without hesitation. The first touch of goose yellow spit out of the willow branch, the new shoots that the grass has just emitted, and the flower tree full of buds, just looking at it without speaking, you will also feel a vigorous breath coming to your face, which makes people bright and suddenly cheerful.
The light cold of the qi can no longer stop the strange spring water, flowing in all directions. The streets and alleys, the fields are strange, and the gentle willow wind is greeted.
The sunlight outside the window was warm, and the flowers bloomed quietly. I sat under the flower tree, and even if I didn't speak, I felt an indescribable happiness.
Passing by has become a landscape, and what you meet is beautiful. The Flowing Year will quietly collect and properly place every journey we have traveled. Just like, every spring, I will write some simple small words on the brocade woven with flowers.
Through the smoke and dust of the world, I put the immortal time on the wall of the years, looking forward to the day like spring.
People are not mistaken, flowers have appointments, the most is to whisk the willows, drunk spring smoke. The most beautiful season of the year is spring!
Such a season is suitable for letting go of all worries and trivialities and going outside. Walking in the spring breeze, you will find that the flowers bloom when you walk, and the trees turn green when you walk, and there is a vigorous vitality everywhere.
The memories that fall on the green tiles are like a wisp of green smoke, thin and long. Hurriedly walking past everyone around them, their eyebrows smiling, as warm as spring.
The floral fragrance is shallow, the thoughts are also light, and I have never wanted to live up to such a time. You see, the peach, plum, and apricot pink of that tree is so brilliant that there is no one around. There is no need to call friends to attract companions, it will attract pedestrians to stop and stay in between.
So, in the warm sun, brewed a pot of old white tea, drank slowly, and quietly listened to the sound of flowers blooming and falling. Don't want to bother others, don't let others disturb. Occasionally, it will be dipped in floral fragrance and drop three or two lines of small characters.
Thank you for our life has been unscathed, and thank you for every spring that comes as promised. A bunch of greens, a tree blossoming, a stream of clear water, a cup of new tea, blowing green east wind for another year.
The willows swing softly, warm and soft. It is light and evenly red, and it has a seemingly innocent aroma. I think, with the spring breeze as the pen, the flower color as the preface, dipped in the aroma of the spring sky, write poetry.
Gently drop the pen, write to magnolia a line of white, write to peach blossom two lines of powder, write to the spring wind three lines of green, write to the rain four lines of green. When the love is thicker, the emotion is stronger, and only then does it frown, but it is on the heart. If you write about life as you first see, time is not old, and we are not scattered.
May this line of poetry be the light of loneliness, the Zen in silence. If you happen to be passing by, sit down, smell the flowers, and read the poetry. Let it be, the heart of the warm mountain and warm water melts the vicissitudes of fireworks for many years.