Autumn to autumn, but I hope the years are quiet

Wandering in the jungle of life, I always have no intention, do not want to alarm the wind, do not want to alarm the rain. Always aspire to live, not to disturb others, and not to be disturbed by others, to pear blossoms like snow, the heart of the bodhi, will be quiet years out of the poetic poetry of the long flow of water, the peace of the present world winding into a light breeze of tranquility.

Always willing to believe that there must be a road before the car to the mountain, the boat to the bridge is naturally straight. A lot of things, you can guess the beginning, but not the end, life is passing, why a thousand knots. Each time a new confusion is started to revive the wings. Many things, like the weather, are slowly hot or gradually cool, until the realization that a season has passed.

In such a maple leaves drifting twilight autumn, a little cool, a little sluggish, but also calm and comfortable. Sometimes I always ponder, the life of a person, in the end, what kind of well-being needs to be cultivated, to pass through the posture of a calm step; in the end, it takes a few lives of subconscious training, to walk through the pattern of the slightest ripples; in the end, it takes a strong and brave heart, to carelessly cross the stormy road ditch and mud.

The fact is that you can't get a lot of the things you need to do to be able to get a lot of the things you need to do. Sometimes I think about how powerful the heart is, you can put a sea, hide the tide, you can also spread a grassland, to hold down the galloping wild horses.

Who had stayed in my flowering season, stirring up the lake of the heart? Who had passed by my rainy season, and molded the lake of clear eyes? The fact is that every single sensible and calm present has a very naive and ignorant one.

The water is slightly rippling and the light is brimming. The fact is that you can find a lot of people who have been in the market for a long time. The fact is that you can find a lot of people who have been in the business for a long time. Who picked up the colorful shells, dreamed the heart to the moon, and stirred the heart lake?

I would like to be a tree, growing in the boundless wilderness, undisturbed, silent, and happy, standing on its own for eternity, you come or not, I am in my world without making a sound, quietly understand the cycle of the seasons, precipitated by the quiet time.

Life, perhaps a chicken feather, but still to step on the song, thought of the sea, thought of the mulberry field, we just need to be a calm and open person, every step in the planting of flowers, each eye is planted on the clouds, to a glazed heart to appreciate all things, so that the notepad of time left a small and fragmented beautiful.

"If life is uninteresting, I am afraid there will be an afterlife; if life is interesting, this life is enough." In this world, too many people can only meet once, too many flowers that can only bloom once, one heart, one mind, one dusty fate, one life, one pair of people, walking into the dusk with you, sitting in the clouds with you, it is enough.

With the years as oars, hawking the boat of life, self-transit the other shore, let the wind blow, let the snow come, live yourself into a way, live without time and age, and the light of day to turn the desolation and old age of the world into a flower pinned to the lapel, live out the years quietly and peacefully in the present world ......