The warm autumn sun is a rare good weather.
The sun is very warm and the environment is very quiet. Sitting in the sunshine, my thoughts floated to where I didn’t know where I was. I agreed not to owe it or not to read it. I should still owe it, otherwise why would I read it?
slowly adapted to such a life, love the life in front of you, and love the dreams in your heart. The former is to keep me down-to-earth, while the latter is to make me look at the distance, not forget to look up at the road, not forget to poetry and the distance.
is as pragmatic, same love dreaming. About poetry living in a city, a city full of flowers. When I am not here, let the flowers accompany you, giving you the most beautiful smile and the sweetest fragrance.
There are no white clouds today, I don’t have to write a letter anymore. I want to say a series of whispers and let the wind take me there. I'm just sitting here waiting, waiting for your messenger to send you your handwritten letter, waiting to stop time, waiting to turn mountains into lakes, waiting to turn me into a sculpture, waiting to let you resurrect it.
Who is whose return boat, who is whose ferry, experience it yourself. Understand it means understanding, and then I understand it. All waiting is for seeing. All preparations are for meeting. All the impossible will become possible. All questions can be answered briefly.
embrace each other affectionately and never let go.
The so-called life is a circle. No matter how far you set out, you will return to the starting point, only in your heart.
because I understand, so I stayed. Even if you are not around, I will write the waiting into poems, plant it into flowers, and let them flourish by the road you pass by.
