A heavy rain soaked all the dryness and darkness. Those anxious longings turned into a bloom of happiness at this moment. On the road, pedestrians hurried. Discard the roughness that dried up these days. Breathing in the freshness and fragrance after the rain, tasting the tranquility brought by the quiet years, and accepting the gifts of life and the touch of life. Suddenly, I found that there was really nothing to stop the pace of spring, just like our hope was always ready to go.
Walking red dust, there are always too many unsatisfactory. But walking through the mountains, you will always meet the water show. Like the rain we've been longing for, it always comes at some point when we're about to give up. The dampness that swept over the face was not only the growth of all things, but also the full of romance and hope. It allows disappointment to rise and spread in another hope. After that, a tree bloomed and a window of flowers bloomed.
Every year, every month, every day, is the only thing in life. Maybe we accidentally miss a rain or a gust of wind. But what's the harm? Moving forward, the next corner, there may be another grand bloom waiting to meet you. Accompany you a poetry, give you a sweet fragrance, let all the hustle and bustle be relieved in full of warmth and touch.
When the rain didn't come, I waited for it to rain. There is anxiety, there is disappointment, there is helplessness, there is sighing. But time will always ignore these things, and let us give us a sudden joy when the sun or the sun sets. In an instant, everything is wet, leaving us to sigh and be moved in the unexpected happiness.
Strange, the story of time and shadow is always full of wind and water. Whether you are proud or frustrated, you will always run aground in the red dust at any time. Many encounters, a gentle turn becomes forever. Many fates, with a flick of a finger, become the end of the world. When the years are getting farther away, the flow of years is shallow. All gathered and scattered, put into a laugh in the wind. None of us can keep it, those years in a hurry.
Laughed, cried, hurt, hurt. It has long been accustomed to wandering alone on a windless morning. Pick a flower, accompanied by a wind. Facing the sea, all the moments in my heart are spring blossoms.
The breeze swept over the heart pool and swayed into flowers. If there is a fate, sooner or later they will meet. If there is no chance, the demand can only rub shoulders. We are all red dust passers-by, who rub shoulders with whom, who intersect with whom, all gather and disperse with fate. We don't need to hold back, and we don't need to grieve. Life is impermanent, each other's warm and cheerful, come, just fine.
Leaning against the window, I like to watch the opening and falling of a flower, the whereabouts of a leaf, and the curl of a cloud. Then, quietly looking back, the dreams that arrived in those years still bloomed as scheduled in the years. Once upon a time, whether it was disappointing or staying together, even if it was desolate, there was also a familiar warmth.
In fact, people who go to people to stay have nothing to do with the wind and moon, only with fate. Causes and conditions, causes and conditions gather and disperse. At the moment of encounter, even the falling flowers are so beautiful. Gently writing, shallow drop, eyes, eyes, all tenderness. Waving his hand, the blossoming of the flowers is also sad. Quiet gaze, deep regret, in the dream, in the heart, it is all pain.
A love affair, how to wait so as not to live up to it? A love, how to cherish is the most true? Between the tides, either the tide is missed or the flowering period is missed. Since fate cannot be fulfilled, why should we pursue it bitterly and wait in vain. Come on, just be it. I have shared my wonderfulness, and your happiness I have been happy. After a stormy season, we will always usher in the sunshine and fragrance.
Slim hands to make spring, plant a touch of peach in the heart. Read the beauty of the spring scenery, the clarity of the stream, and the beautiful flowering period of the poems in Ren's pen. Quietly show your smile, pull the breeze, hand in hand with the depths of the falling flowers, and carefully interpret the delicacy of the fragrance of spring. Wherever you go, bring your own sunshine and happiness. Walk safely and wait quietly. Those who pass through life are always melted by the warmth of the heart into a wisp of tranquility, a touch of compassion.
Walking on the avenue after the rain, the lively spring flowers on both sides have blossomed into a golden candy. Branches, you surround me, I am next to you. Each little head laughed together, refreshing the eyes of passers-by and enriching the wordlessness of the years.
Like, this kind of walking in the bustle of the quiet. There is the prosperity of disturbances, the poetry of fragrance, the hope of moving forward, and the safety of blooming. Sometimes, standing under a tree full of flowers, I suddenly forget that I am a passer-by of flowers or a passer-by of the years. Just like that, drunk in a tree fragrance, drunk in a touch of silence.
Turning around in life, how many fates meet in joy and part in gloom. How much attachment withers in waiting, and gives up in helplessness. Walked, loved, hurt, loved. In the end, it was precipitated into strength by the years in the change of season after season. We gradually learn to appreciate happiness in contentment, bloom wonderfully in the ordinary, choose to forget in freedom, gain happiness in giving, learn to cherish in moving, and wait for happiness in simplicity.
Overnight spring rain, Vientiane renewed. Suddenly, I found that the scenery I walked through and the stories I passed by became an indispensable part of my life. Even if it is occasionally mixed with a faint pain, or a little regret is hidden. It turned out to be unique and uncopyable. Close your eyes and the floral fragrance is fragrant. Looking up, a ray of sunlight had already pierced through the haze and rushed towards me. Warm, soft, that makes people fall in love and like it.
Most touched, Willow Grace Na hanging silk tapestry. The pieces are new green and full of branches. Let the tired heart feel the hope and beauty that the spring girl brings to us in this depression. Moving forward, the magnolia has bloomed into a white, a tree of light powder. A faint wind passes by, and there will be petals like butterflies falling at your feet. Gently picked up, there is no sadness in that piece of whiteness, only the thickness after prosperity and the stability of returning to nature. Raise your eyebrows, pluck a handful of the coolness of the rain, sprinkle on the dry atrium. Another season of warmth, carved a shallow trace in The Fang Fei Li. This spring, I still carry my own sunshine and walk with spring.
Time never looks back, the past is like a song. I savor the melodious melody in silence. Banishing dreams, I brought my own sunshine and breeze whispering, talking to flowers and plants. Smile slightly, cut a wisp of the softness of the spring breeze, pick a petal of incense that blooms, for all the years of mercy, freehand the scorching growth in the wetness and the lushness of everything.
The old things between the flowers, the bees flying and the butterflies dancing, and the missed flowering period is dyed a little desolate. The years have changed, and I have not forgotten the return date. The face is still the same, the thought is also fragrant, and the thought is also fragrant. If after many years, the story is yellowed, the ink fragrance is still there, the plain letter is still there, and the heart language is still there. Well, I am still the same, clutching a wisp of life's fragrance and walking with spring.
Author: Liu Li Shuying
This article is contributed by the original Dream Team and may not be reproduced without authorization.