Rain

Unconsciously, the rain has wetted the windowsill. I listened to the ticking of every minute between the hands of the clock and the illusion that this is the return of the soul after waking up. Perhaps, this is another time to pass by time, so old that freehand brushwork, however, youth comes very suddenly, I didn’t realize the clear demarcation between the day and the night at all. What I saw was all a piece of ambiguity, alternation between the old and the new, silence and nature. Or maybe, time is really as fresh and vivid as the rain. As the rain passes away, the space of reincarnation will be filled inadvertently. I know that this is not the whole of rain. Therefore, whenever the sudden rain breaks, I always feel empty in my heart, especially when I was a child, this feeling is particularly strong. After all, the years are really ruthless, and we like to stealthily capture people’s feelings of enjoying and listening to the rain, or are we all used to inexplicable melancholy and then blaming the life that will eventually grow old pale? Will people always run on the road? Is it true that I have never had the patience to sit down and listen to the drizzle quietly? Perhaps, the silence is just a nonsense, and the smooth lake surface can never be condensed in the bottom of my heart. At this moment, I was helpless: the uncleaned ear roots could not filter out the beautiful melody hidden deep in the rain, and finally could not rub out a wave of graceful and restrained annual rings. Now, I am really in the rain. Compared with myself in childhood memory, it seems that I am more accustomed to using the pen tip to describe the lingering depression in my heart. Words, when they pour on the paper, are dense, like raindrops, like hair, cut continuously, and the sense is still chaotic. This kind of heart is like the Four Seasons, pouring love and hate into the whole world of mortals, but unable to bear the strength of the wind. It is such a weak and sorrowful rainy season that shapes the lonely heart, the lonely skin and the lonely dream of the God of primordial spirit, which is full of mistakes and omissions, just piling up the ancient, the endless deep alley provoked the green bronze statue and mottled moss marks. It seems that the rain has never been here, and I have never thought of disturbing the originally peaceful and peaceful environment. Let your heart down for a while. If you don’t think about it or see it, you won’t get lost or sink. If you don’t hold it or fight, you won’t worry or be sad and create everything like water, the peace of heart is like water and reflects people. I don’t ask where I came from or where I am going. No matter how beautiful the flower season on the other side is, it is still an unreachable illusion. Perhaps, I was too careless to ignore the endless music in the rain. However, why after every rainy day, the vague and familiar eyes always appear in my mind, like a flash of lightning, which can instantly penetrate my trembling heart? Everything is so vague, and the thoughts of living in the wind are as thin as the breath between flowers. However, everything was so ethereal, just like the illusion of a lifetime. From then on, I couldn’t tell whether I saw the world through the rain curtain, there are still some people who use tears to reflect the true but hypocritical self. I am not a poet, but I want to cast my deep love for the world into poetry, even if it is a broken chapter without rhyme. Just like the continuous rain, it has neither color nor character. Ask yourself whether the embryonic form of life is also like this. The outline of time is depicted as the fascinating Dunhuang frescoes. The pain of reincarnation is diluted by spring rain, and there is no entanglement of previous life in this life, cause and effect are like the beauty of the flower season in the world and then die gracefully. After all, I can’t help it. Except for the humble persistence of living, my body is already fragile. Rain is the soul of water. Although it is weak, it can make life more full and vigorous. As the saying goes: I don’t know its shape, but its power is unpredictable. In my opinion, no one has ever seen the form of rain, but the rainy season has enriched the whole course of life. We cannot escape the fate of getting old, but we can freely choose the way of getting old: singing or whispering, smiling or sobbing, ordinary or heroic, traveling or imagining …… I am not a writer either, it is totally impossible to express the endless emotions with proper words. Perhaps, I am really the son of Yu, contradictory and complicated, affectionate and forgetful. Then, who can tell me what the rain looked like at first? Like (prose editor: yuiran) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. From beginning to end, I only welcomed myself with silence; Since I went to college, on weekends… [Original essay] string words Since winter, the sky is dry and the snow is misty. The whole earth is desolate and empty. Whether your mood is like a year, or… Forever military dream Forever military Dream (Ma Xiaochun, Kangle county, Gansu province) memories are like meteors, passing through the unmarked and blurred eyes, and the outline gradually… Spring rain I like spring rain like everything on the Earth. Just after the new year, the sky began to rain. I really like the spring in Jiangnan… Plucked the snowflakes of Dreams (modified) Near the new year, the first snow fell. I was surprised to read a long scroll in the morning, the white one is snow, and the gray one is tree… Self The fashion is transient, and the style is permanent. Things that can shine on others may not be put here. In…