my dream

The sun always rises in places where dreams exist, and the moon always lingers in places where dreams exist. Dreams are eternal smiles that make your mind clear and transparent forever. I have a yearning for the sky from a young age. This kind of yearning is not simply a flight through the plane to see the clouds pass by. I hope that I can also hear the most sacred and fascinating melody of the celestial body from this clear and empty sound. Childhood is a piece of melted sugar, a colorful candy paper, a memory that flutters in the evening wind. I like painting in small countries, although these paintings are hard to see in people's eyes. What to paint? I painted colorful butterflies because I was very envious of the beautiful wings of the butterflies. So, I often look at the sky in a daze - the sky is always blue and blue, the blue is very clear, the blue is very transparent, and the blue is not a little bit of impurities. I feel that I am gradually integrating with nature... The bragging of the spring breeze gives the plants a revelation, vying to bloom their own flowers, embellishing every landscape and welcoming a new round of growth. The weather is getting warmer every day, and our swallowtail family is also active every day. Finally, I broke free from the shackles of the clam shell and feathered into a swallowtail butterfly. I climbed the top of the branch and dried my wings. Now, I don't need the protection of the perfect fortress of the clam shell. I have a better weapon with wings and a wider space. I flapped the beautiful wings and drove the gorgeous belt. I am going to find the figure of the spring girl, looking for sweet nectar and looking for a place in the rivers and lakes. There is a period of youth that can fly, there is a mood without trouble, there is a kind of vitality without repression, and there is a dream every day happy. Now I still like to paint, but I no longer draw butterflies, and I no longer envy the wings of the butterflies. I always think that white is the most beautiful and pure, so I especially like the white wings of angels. In the evening, the moon is moving in her light footsteps, passing through a gauze-like thin cloud, revealing a fascinating smile, and the little stars jumped out one by one and played games happily. What is the sky like? I began to think about it... On a night when the moon couldn't be beautiful again, I couldn't suppress my inner guilt again, fanning my huge white feather wings and rushing to the place I longed for. Looking back at the earth, it is petite and cute like a baby, but it is also fragile and fragile like glass. The sun used his heat to make it thousands of miles away. I didn't dare to approach, and I didn't want to get close. I hated the domineering power on him. Pluto is farthest from the sun, and it is so cold that it is so suffocating. I don’t want to care about this cold and ruthless guy, but there is still a "friend" who turns around her. I shuttled through the stars, and I wandered back to the moon. I looked at the riddled planet. The history of your birth is farther than the earth. What are you? Where did you come from? What are you doing here? I am thinking about it. Dreams, will it change over time? Perhaps it should be said that it is more perfect as it grows up? I want to have a pair of wings, like an angel, who can soar in the free sky, chase the white clouds, use the brain of my knowledge, set up a golden bridge, and take my body to pursue my life ideal!

my dream

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