Rush
Text/Su Zhi Ruoxue
A wisp of wind, casually waving, gave me the power to fly.
It didn't matter whether it was a dandelion or a reed, I just wanted to hold the seed and slowly rise, when the white of the cloud wrapped around the white of the ankle, and with a gentle touch, the speed of the free fall made the scream break through the setting sun.
Eagles glide, night and dawn part in entanglement, rubbing out the flames is the most brilliant dance of the morning sun, and the sparrows dodge one after another.
Can the clouds that cover the wilderness support my eagerness to accelerate with softness?
There will always be an end to any rush, a smooth landing or a stumbling, or even a shattered bone, is an anxiety that I cannot crack.
But I still expect softness, expect acceptance, and expect echoes in the pitch that comes over me.
Close your eyes and let ten thousand seeds explode behind you, and when the bell rings, I am one with you.
At the exit of sorrow and joy, tears had drowned a lake of whispers.
One point number Su Zhi Ruoxue