Sitting on the shore of the lake of years, watching the past spread; Brew a cup of tea of time, look at the clouds in the days, constantly changing, and constantly painting different faces.

The calm surface of the lake will always be emotional, bringing a little breeze, disturbing those once landscapes.

This is the journey of life, and it has fallen into thousands of hazy places. At this time, the heart is like a floating cloud in the sky, with a bit of restlessness, like the turbulence of a long river.

The faint floral fragrance is still so fragrant, constantly spreading and flowing slowly; The melancholy of those years will have confusion, and I will unconsciously carry my heart and leave marks on my face; Those hot and dry will continue to bump, leaving bitterness, and the joy in memory.

Flowers are blooming, lingering around me; Those distant mountains, with their green splendor, like the sea, surging in the wind, make the heart unconsciously produce heroism.

Walking slowly, turning along the lakeside, watching the silence of those times, and the loneliness, constantly floating, constantly painting the blur of emotions.

I never wanted to go very far, and those past attachments left two lines of footprints on the white plain paper.

The wind, into dreams, takes me on a journey; The leaves are constantly swaying; The pages of the book, in the memory of the wilderness walked.

Many times, those faint sorrows are because of my constant searching, which makes me at a loss. Even if you sit in the shade of a tree, your heart is constantly struggling, and you will face all the wind and sand.

Because I never wanted to stay in the corner, to be so frustrated, to leisurely enjoy the ripples in time.

I once thought that sitting on the hill like this, I could see the flying clouds, I could see the changes of time, and I could see the snow falling on the mountains; In an instant, you can see that my face has changed.

A lot of minutes and seconds, just laughing, without disturbing, quietly walking by my side, leaving me with nothing.

It's not my need, it's not my pride. Because I don't know why I found that those moonlight shortages will carry the coldness of time, making me feel that those periods are constantly relaxing; I don't know why, I'm always lonely, and I'm silent.

I thought I was staying in the mountains, but I found myself still sitting here, on the edge of the lake, watching the flow of time.

The wind is constantly blowing, the trees are constantly arrogant, but I still have nothing, and I still look at the white clouds like this.

I want to wander with the wind, instead of this, by the lake, looking at the lake, sipping tea, but feeling a lot of dragging.

The willows by the lake are still so alone, keeping a certain distance from each other, and they will also float from time to time in the blur of the years.

Occasionally, a willow leaf, unable to bear the swaying of the wind, dances like the ups and downs of a butterfly; fell on the surface of the lake, along with the surface of the water, not lingering.

The fish in the water, moving to a leisurely melody, came over to see if I still existed; Maybe it makes them feel helpless, or maybe they can only endure it and just walk away, wagging their tails and bringing up the waves, which makes me feel their grace.

It can't be that they don't want to accept me like this, so they bend their bodies like this, twist and swing, and they are no longer there, swimming into the distance, looking for a rainbow that belongs to them.

Maybe this is my dream, and it is also my longing, because I don't like such tranquility, such quietness; The journey of life will be muddy, windy and rainy, and have different thoughts.

After experiencing wind and rain, you will see the language of flowers, the rainbow, and the relaxation of time. Leisurely in the heaviness of time, with a sense of relaxation, I want to walk in the wind and rain, I want to get what I have, I want to be able to climb the mountain in front of me, I can get my own dream.

Is this anticipation, or is it my patience...... If you continue to move forward, you will see the long river of time, and there will be a flat boat, fighting in the waves.

This is the interlacing of time, and it is also the persistence of those times. I have never seen the folds in those times, but I will frown when I see the days and walk slowly; I will always continue to move forward, so that my dream falls on the journey......