The shallow pen on the building, the quiet realization of fleeting time.

Lead a flower heart, pull a wisp of wind marks, infinite essays in the night, infinite shallow ink. Drunk thousands of cups unlimited things, the moon shadow exquisite Yan does not return, late spring return to a dust, half drunk and half awake for who knows. Outside Qingfeng, idle clouds fly, the wind is about to fall, fall in a pool of blue waves, startled the lotus heart water.

-inscription

Quietly weave a curtain of rain into a net of overflowing years. I am entwined in the center of the dense circle, and the amber of the years will brighten me into different shapes. That seeped into a meter of sunlight, decorated me into a column of incense, a shallow pen a kind of self-cultivation, quiet enlightenment for a period of time.

Whose tears are flooded in the rainy season, the loneliness of spring is the most beautiful scenery. Because of loneliness, so tears, because tears, all emotional. The scenery is full of meditation, and the most beautiful is the reserve of spring rain and dusk, such as a woman's incomprehensible heart.

The blending of heart and heart is like the words of mountains and water, and the yellowing ink is full of landscape dialogue. The ink fragrance of the heart and heart in the bamboo case is lightly rolled by the delicate years, wrinkling into the waves of different lives. I slowly pick up a love, let that unique blend in the text, drag soft into a touch of missing for whom I do not know.

There are always some regrets, and I don't know how to sigh until I know how to look back; there is always something to leave, as if God arranged to let go, when you decide to go to the fantasy moment of a life, you come, leave a memory, and go away. There are always too many such as if, blurred, pieces of cracks, such as emotional porcelain in know how to cherish accidentally broken, neither early nor late, coinciding with the end of fate.

Buddha said that all living beings should have an ordinary heart, and a kind of self-cultivation is a kind of realm. If I can, I would like to become a monk, green lantern with the ancient Buddha, usually look at the world of flowers, grass and world, and practice the realm of no self, no action, no desire and no desire on the road of shallow life. In the end, he cleaned the Sutra Pavilion spotlessly, and then waited for his death to become his own positive fruit, which was unknown to the world.

The Bible tells me that keeping my heart is better than keeping everything. I live with sincerity, what is all that, including my heart? Whether to get rid of the shackles of the earth, you can find the self of life. What is self, I need this world, good and bad are waiting for me to touch. I need to be conservative, self-conscious and self-conscious.

What kind of entanglement can make me see clearly whether I am wise or stupid. I will enjoy for a glass of water, think for a pool of water alone, I enjoy the purification of my soul, think of the satisfaction of life, I enjoy thinking that I forget that there is still an unfinished life right now. It turns out that I am both a wise man and a fool.

Fame and wealth are entangled with a long search, which is not only clouds and smoke, but also nostalgia. What kind of no regrets, can let me see the fate of benevolence, if there is no freedom, maybe it is just an excuse, just want to maintain an identity, not to be benevolent fate humble. The result in the call, the result in a moment to polish the eyes, is to stand a little higher, will see a little further?

Human nature to the realm, expensive in peace, Momo flowers bloom slowly, but a quiet pen, quiet understanding of the fleeting feelings of strangers, will be beautiful, blooming in the twilight of spring. The serenity of human nature, such as the soft moonlight dusk, light and darkness, gathering and dispersing, should conform to nature and give up.

There are too many accidents and surprises in the world, how to live a life of self-cultivation, self-cultivation and tea like tea. How much time can I have to find out the practice of epiphany and cut off the feelings of snow? It is not difficult to have the heart to solve all kinds of puzzles, but the dark ink pen of time gradually paints the slow face old.

How much patience is in persistence, how much persistence is out of control, hard-working life, after going through ups and downs, if the heart is young, it is no longer young. Youth hard-working a family, a kind of responsibility, youth also buried Taoyuan flowers outside the world. The corners of the mouth with an aftertaste smile, heart, but sad.

The peace that is not disturbed is good in the stillness that is not ignored. The longing from the bottom of my heart creates a reflection on yesterday, today and tomorrow. Introspection is like water life, in the rich experience of strangers slowly into the year of famine, with salty taste buried in the sea. If there is no more reflection, there will be no epiphany of growth. The test of perseverance and endurance is to simplify the heart into water, quiet enlightenment, and good fortune between reflection.

Relieved that some learn to let go of the mood, strangers on the shallow pen, cultivating calm, quiet and restless, falling in the dust of desire. People get it, the tree wants to be quiet but the wind does not stop, lose a kind of inclusion, a conscience, a simple life, an only one. What can control the strange weather, wind or rain, in the final analysis, what wind is blowing, what rain is as calm as relief, and living, is the mood.

As long as you live, you will have the opportunity to experience the taste of bitterness and sweetness. Those pure state of mind, scattered if the dream will eventually converge into the signature of life, to verify the reason to live. All the way, take a quick look at the flowers, the mind is free and easy, or say goodbye is just a chance encounter with another oneself, falling sad and happy.

Occasionally surprised, listening to the sound of a glimmer of light outside the window, just lyrical in only I can hear the melody, gracefully into a meter of happiness, accompanied by bamboo ink around my bed, soothing me to sleep just right. That serenity, such as a worldly mother, gently soothes my sadness, tenderness with my clear dream, my appearance.

Momo on the shallow pen, Jingwu fleeting, pleasant years, just like the first time. I dance together in the season of time, you GE in the ups and downs of the mountains, shallow with a book, deep suction understand, Enron swaying drunken eyes, strangers read.

Wen / Xue Ying