Holy Snow

I always wanted to be a dull light and ethereal snowflake, falling quietly in the winter wilderness in the north. In my far-reaching dream, the snow in my hometown was like the stretch of silver satin. I placed myself in it and saw many wonderful things and the group of birds wandering in the deep blue sky. In many elapsed time, I was inspired by the silent instruction of Snow White, and constantly purified and upgraded all the details in my life in the wind of the world. I know that poetic snow is not equal to natural snow, but if you get involved in life as a pure snowflake, everything will become particularly relaxed, pure and vivid. That would be the unfolding of a story, not the ending. For example, Snow Lotus has the most charming life only when it is in full bloom on the snow mountain in Northwest China; For example, if the holy love like Snow Lotus burns on the endless snow field, that will be the most beautiful and the best setting. For many days, I left the door of my heart open, listening to a piece of snow like poetry and gently knocking at the door. The waiting only once in my life is not necessarily love. When the bonfire in the distance brightens my dim pupil again, I see the snow mountain like a loving old man, that is a kind of detached manner, which is full of mystery in awe. However, after countless baptisms, I saw the slanting Sky narrowing and becoming dry. I wanted to go back to the snow field and search for it at the beginning of my life. The white snow is actually the embodiment of my life or the perfect freehand brushwork. The simplest is the most beautiful. The sanctity and ethereal of snow cannot be replaced by other fragrant flowers. She opened in the deep winter and finally became the blood of the earth; She fluttered, fluttered, as if I stood in the wind. That is a kind of true honesty and selflessness. Holding six snowflakes in hand, the dancing soul can be close to the vast space-time, and quietly turn a wet face at the extreme of the universe. Now, when I look at the North with pure eyes, there will be snow falling into my heart. I felt unprecedented pleasure and intoxication, living as seriously as snow or quietly disappearing, jumping or flowing in the heart of the Earth, which was a poem rather than a fairy tale. I also recalled the snow accumulated in front of my hometown, which was as poetic and picturesque as the waves pushed my dream far away. I walked on the snow, and the clear footprints extended to the ends of the Earth infinitely. Love is the most difficult thing to forget in the world, and love is the one that can never be forgotten. At midnight in the south of the Yangtze River without winter snow, I dreamed back to the great Northeast Plain. On the holy snow, I wrote the tenacity, transcendence and beauty of life. 800 Words

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