Listen, the sounds of spring

In the morning light, I gently close my eyes, there will be a variety of sounds, like a delicate melody, dancing in the four seasons of my life. At this time, there is sunshine came in, illuminating every corner of my mind, my mood, in the light melody, warmed into a gorgeous colorful haze.

On the morning of work, the air is still with a shallow spring cold. When I walked through the garden in the center of the street, I only saw a few bright red in the emerald green. On the field paths, the spring breeze danced, birds chirped, and from time to time, students on trams whistled and ran into the distance.

I like to stand in front of the flower tree, close my eyes, hold my breath and listen to the sound of the petals blooming. Every flower is the eye of spring. And every flower bloom is the heavenly music of nature. At this time, listening itself is a kind of beauty.

Whenever these wonderful notes are like elves, hovering in the four seasons of my life into a ray of sunshine, a colorful sunshine, a touch of verdure, those in the dust of the past, as well as the beauty of the once lost, will be the earthly hustle and bustle of the world and the world's sorrows and joys, one by one, cage, and ultimately condensed into a deep contemplation of life.

So, I like in the silent night, through the bright light, the layers of the heart into a melody, and then let it hibernate in the rhyme of the poem. I'm in a cup of tea in the afterglow, sighing at the rush of the years, easy to pass, sighing at the life of each person encountered.

And the sound of that spring is always in my life, accompanying me from day to day.

And the sound of spring will always be in my life, accompanying me from day to day.