Light thoughts, pulling time, returning to the old place, let the thoughts sit down and settle down; On the plain paper as thin as cicada's wings, I began to think, obsessed with the ancient rhyme of acacia in an old saying, waiting for an agreement, looking back and looking at each other affectionately; I planted a kind of waiting in my eyes, floating with beauty, frowning with all kinds of amorous feelings, freehand brushwork with the quiet beauty of meeting, and let this faint pen and ink slowly pour out a river of love with the wings of missing.
Please allow me to' miss you' like this, let the affection of a mountain and river be exiled to the fullest, let the petals of acacia sway with amazing dresses, dance all my life, enjoy the whole world, and dream of colorful mountains and high waters; Even if there is only a moment of beauty, I will wait for you in a flash in the pan, warm your palm and ripple all my heart. Since then, Yu Jingmei has grown old with the wind.
When the past dormant in the bottom of my heart, revived in spring, dusty old things, such as unopened glaciers, are tossing and turning on paper, sometimes rejoicing, sometimes silently hesitating, I want to keep a pure story, stroke your other shore, paddle and ripple, and fulfill the warmth that I will never give up. Since then, I have twisted words into flowers and bloomed for a long time; The ends of the earth are accompanied by security and warmth.
I miss you like a butterfly, and I don't know the way home. I spilled all over the floor like a poem, and my tenderness condensed into ink, and my heart was mixed, and I drank half a cup of acacia; Clouds have crossed the sky, and the world of mortals has rolled over their wishes. Bodhi trees write a gentle letter and like it quietly, so that acacia will spread forever.
Acacia is the wind, chasing the wings of missing, whispering between the lines, silently cherishing each other, putting pen to paper, rippling in a piece of ink; Dreaming, in the rhyme of writing poetry, folding the voice of Na Yue in those days, my thoughts are like churning, wetting the moonlight, how can I put this eternal tenderness? If I am just a walker outside your heart, can there be any fluctuations in the moment of youth?
Forgotten years, lost sand dunes, the depth of time, who has been singing the story of the sad ending rain; If all the above is just a play, I just hope that I can have a little input and sincerity on the stage, and don't rush into it, get lost in the gap of time, and perform it alone from page to page.
Time is silent, acacia becomes the wind, clear water boils briefly, and vicissitudes fade; At dusk, the afterglow penetrates, and a person waits faintly, eager to see; A person quietly aftertaste, the past suddenly near and far, foggy; Wet infatuation, flying vows, tangled in the Sansheng River, what kind of boat crossed the weak water for three thousand miles? What kind of wings reach the vicissitudes of life? If allowed, butterflies can also float across the sea, charming and beautiful, as long as you are always there!
As long as you have been there and haven't gone far, all the time has not changed; How many ups and downs I am willing to go through, as long as I don't sleep and the fate is not broken, I will still wait for you at the intersection of acacia for a lifetime, thousands of miles away.
Every time I think of it, my eyes are warm and dizzy, waiting for my thoughts. Freehand brushwork is like heart water, like rain, chasing the wings of my thoughts. The pen falls, dripping for warmth, weaving, expecting, and the story is full of flowers.
You are an idiot in this world and miss the afterlife. I miss you constantly every day, not because I can't see you, but because I can't see you; It is the first time that I am lingering in my heart, chasing the wings of missing for the flower season, tirelessly, putting pen to paper and giving birth to flowers, dancing and lingering with butterflies, just for peace as before, as at first sight.
Missing is like water, cooling the night sky, dipping in the night, saying a word, putting a cavity of feelings in front of the case, chasing the wings of missing, every word is full of love, burning its glory, the rain reveals its voice, spreading hope everywhere, slowly and affectionately!