I love the dusk, the muzzling aroma in the air
And if there is no bell, it comes out of a tree
From the wings of a bird, it emanates
I love this blue, bright sadness
This light slowly falls from the clouds
I like it in my own body
The sound of breaking, and the process of healing
- Those alternating sorrows and joys, those alternating processes
The secret of the new life. Even, this hopeless life
I love it too
Because the way you wave your hand in the distance
Like a command called all things growing
I love this poem very much, not only the hate of sleeping, but also the hope of all things growing. #Gold Powder Community # #今日头条 #
