Winter window, night rain

Winter window, night rain

The windows of the winter are always covered with rain and dew. The winter rain of Ludao is the remnant of snow. I took a cup of tea and sat alone at the window covered by the night, watching the rain screen approaching.

Calmness is a firmness. The nightfall of the night overflows the silky rain line, and only the rain of rustling is with me. The rain of the winter night is a pair of pale hands, knocking out the melancholy complex and screaming the heart of the heart. At the moment when the wind passed, the soaked leaves struggled desperately on the branches, and seemed to want to shake off the baptism of the rain. But the smoldering rain does not scatter, and the water on the leaves accumulates deeper and deeper.

The trunk under the leaves is not moving like a mountain. It is like sitting on the Diaoyutai, holding a cup of light tea, and letting the raindrops erode. Even though the winter is quiet and cold, I still laugh at the red clouds. I want to have a firm mind in the soul of the tree that calms down, so that it can sit in the rain indifferently, without fear.

Nothing is a commitment. The rain is getting more and more violent, and it is swallowed up with the boundless night. The branches are madly swaying, but the rain is still lingering. The small flowers outside the window, seemingly more fragile and tender. But in the face of rain erosion and cold wind bullying, there is no struggle, no resistance, just silently bear. There are often wet leaves next to the flowers, and they can hardly compromise. The flowers are washed away by the rain, but no matter how bleak the winter is, the color of the petals will never fade; no matter how the rain hits, the style of the perseverance will never be. This is not a kind of jealousy and stealing. It is actually a kind of ignorance.

I saw a kind of commitment in the depths of the soul of the flower, the kind of commitment that no longer escapes, no longer asks for luxury, no longer resists; the kind of attachment that gives up hard work, there is no demand for hope. It saves the strength of resistance and bears no responsibility for life. Eventually survived the curtain of the rain. I finally got through: people can be innocent without a break, and they will invade each other. Slowly push the window open and let the rain climb my forehead.

There is so much in life that you don't have to be obsessed. Some people seek to reverse in adversity, but often collapse in setbacks. It is the wise man to add more courage to accept failure in the sleepiness. Calmness is the solitude of detachment, and nothing is the end of life. In the future, I will only regard the difficulties as a winter window night rain. Even if the rain is over my shoulder, it doesn't matter. As long as there is still a breath, I will break the dawn at the time of the rainstorm.

Third day: Fengqing