The Imprint of the Passing Time Prose

On the corner of the street, a new coffee shop called "Fleeting Time" opened. The old windows are mottled with light and shadow, and the colorful world is dancing inside. Green vines cover the wooden lattice, as if there are deep stories living inside. I don’t know if there will be such a person suddenly appearing here, not talking about the past, not saying that I miss you, but just saying: Long time no see!

The memory of the fleeting years passing by the street corner has deeply buried the pain of those tears that broke out of the cocoon and turned into a butterfly, leaving only the long flowing time and the long life. In the depth of time, I put those things Thick love is treasured gently. The green time, the ignorant years, and the simplest happiness are gradually overlapping in the world of mortals. I just want to present the simplest smile.

The wind is holding the agarwood, my eyes are flowing, standing at the entrance of the old alley of reincarnation, I will not tell about the coldness of this season, nor will I explore the warmth and coldness of this world. I just miss a beautiful love and just want to fold an old piece of time into my dream. However, after I had not remembered it for a long time, I was shocked to realize that the passage of time was so ruthless. In a hurry, life was messed up and time was changed.

The night was fading, and the surroundings were so quiet that it seemed like you could hear the sound of time passing by. The days are dull again and again. Perhaps, it is only after the hustle and bustle that we know how to hide in the corner and miss those past moods and hard-to-leave times. Many memories have disappeared quietly, but there are always some scattered fragments that exist quietly, like a nursery rhyme that does not need to be remembered but will never be forgotten, or a green poem that is always lingering. Live in your heart.

Walking through the window of the passing years, I realized that the beauty has always been precipitated in time. Some people and some things are looming in the memory, and the hazy happiness and sadness seem to pass in an instant. Inadvertently, another season passed like this. When the seasons pass by ruthlessly, those past years have disappeared at the fingertips. No matter how windy and rainy they are, they can no longer catch up with the light footsteps of time.

Time is like a lotus, quietly exhaling a delicate fragrance, with appropriate shades, pure and fragrant. The fleeting footsteps are light, calm and elegant in the years.

In my free time, I read books and splash ink, lean against the building and listen to the rain, cook wine with green plums, listen to the snow in the Zen garden, and the days are as clear and peaceful as water. This is the simplest happiness in the world.

In the ordinary passing years, fold your love into scriptures, carry your Zen bag, walk on the noisy streets of the world, pick a flower to calm down the years, read life peacefully, enjoy time, and understand life. .

Many things can only be understood after experiencing them; many dreams, once settled, are beautiful.

Life is nothing more than growing up in two ways, either staying with him in the mortal world, or forgetting him in the world. In the passing years, those dreams that float to the clouds, those flowers that are low in the dust, those prides that have never been seen from the ends of the world are quietly left in time. After experiencing the quiet and beautiful autumn leaves one after another, , only tolerance and cherishment remain.

How many changes and vicissitudes of life need to be experienced in life before it becomes fuller and fuller? Many things that were once pure and beautiful are covered with moss. No matter how hard the hand of time is, it is impossible to return to their original appearance. Time has hidden the heavy door deeply. Even thousands of miles of rivers and mountains and thousands of years of prosperity will gradually become blurred with the passage of time, leaving traces of destiny.

When I look back suddenly, I look at the roads I have walked and the people I met are like the surging river, irreversible, so I learn to be relieved and accept the situation as it comes.

There are always some things in this world that neither die nor grow old, such as love.

Yeats wrote this in his poem: "When your glory has passed, your temples are gray and you are deeply asleep. You sit by the fire and doze slowly. Please take down this collection of poems of mine. Please take your time." Reading it slowly, like a dream, you will relive how affectionate and tender your eyes were. How many people have loved your radiant charm, your charming appearance, or their sincerity. Or acting, but there is only one person! What he loves is your holy and pious heart! When you are old and your beauty is gone, he will still love you deeply!" I often think, if everything changes! When we get old, will we still have the beauty of the most beautiful years? Can you still smile calmly?

The gatherings and separations in the world, the ups and downs of fate, are all due to fate. Sometimes, a moment is eternity, and turning around is a stranger. Looking back suddenly, what is old is the years, what is eternal is deep love.

I have always believed that there is a kind of fate. Looking back after many years, I will have no regrets. I stand in the hometown of time, never getting closer or farther away, waiting for love safely.

I believe that even though time will grow old and people will grow old, the most sincere love will never grow old. Years go by, but feelings remain the same. I know that you have been guarding me quietly at the other end of time. Even if your hair is gray and your appearance is old, you will hold my hands and express your tenderness. No matter how thousands of mortals pass by in my fleeting time, I can only keep my love in your world for the rest of my life.

The noisy world is so quiet at this time, and there are stars outside my window. She has always been a quiet woman, guarding something in the deepest mortal world, guarding the original beauty and joy. I know that time will remember those things that remain the same, those beautiful moments in those golden years, some things are hidden deep in my heart and will never grow old or be forgotten.

Let the years pass by, flowing quietly in my heart. Those faint lingering warmth, those smiling faces inadvertently thought of, those unexpected warmth, brighten the fleeting years. Time allows emotions to accumulate little by little, and the years precipitate all memories, making the happiness of the past become eternity. Those long-lasting feelings deep in the fleeting years allow me to calmly and gracefully place myself. Looking back, I am still the lonely and cool woman in the mortal world.

At the corner of time, we meet the passing years. Let’s make an appointment to have a drink with you. Let’s enjoy the spring and autumn with you and watch the winter and summer quietly. I think that in this world, the companionship of souls is the best understanding, and it is also the beautiful scenery gifted to me by life.

On the ridge of the passing years, I am silently happy in your eyes, and you will be waiting for me forever. Spread a few pages of plain paper, write your and my story into a collection of green words, mount it on the title page of the passing years, and hide it with ordinary happiness. Those memories, those warmth, penetrate the years, pass through time, and moisten the fleeting years.

I really like these stable days, a little connection, a kind of waiting, which overflows life, warms the season, and softens time. The world of mortals is long, and I gradually learn to live the trivial days into a poem, a flower, and a glass of water. In the quiet years, I put my heart at ease, half happy and half deep in love. Determined waiting, lasting affection season after season.

The past that I once thought I would never be able to let go of has long since faded away. The past has gradually faded away in the passing years, leaving only a shallow imprint of memory, which is still quietly engraved in my heart. Flowers bloom sometimes, and they fall silently. There is no need to linger. What should go will eventually go, and everything will happen as it happens. Years pass by gently, fate comes and goes. If there is fate, I believe that we will meet again when we should meet again. It is a colorful touch on the branches of life.

No longer care about the gains and losses of possessions, go with the clouds and the water, go and stay at will, see the mountains as mountains, see the water as water, free and easy, quietly counting the clear and transparent beauty of the years. The sparkle in his eyes is also so clear.

The breeze is lingering, warming a lamp of time, warming a meeting, looking up at happiness, standing in a charming posture, ferrying the world of mortals at the ferry of the fleeting years, piling up love in the petals of the years, weaving a flower A dream of life and death.

Make a cup of coffee that lasts for a long time, brew it carefully and simmer slowly. Boil through all the joys, sorrows and joys, and endure all the vicissitudes of prosperity. In the tiny moments, you still stayed with me, until the front of our house was covered with flowers and plants, and the back of the house was filled with vegetables; in the old days, you never left, and I kept guarding the simple happiness until the passing of time. Our faces grow old until death separates us.