思念如墨：作者：金色华章

金色华章

思念如墨

作者：金色华章

思念就像浓墨，流淌在纸上，

抹不掉，

擦不干净，

越来越浓。

青春，

是血与火的穿越，

是那抹璀璨流星。

没有任何可以炫耀，

谁都拥有，

只是如何运用。

岁月悠长，

节点却只有几个。

把握尺度，

便敢在波涛汹涌里，

浪花上听歌。

出群的孤雁，

翅膀划破寒云，羽尖抖落碎雪的白；

眼睛里看到的不是远山，

心底感应的是昨日的雪。

周围没有优雅的舞伴，

只有翅膀拍击冷风的呼呼声，漫过耳尖。

你们去了哪里？

有谁在飞行路上，

投进山水间的某个角落？

抑或是在山旮旯里，

建了窝？

老人们说：“老了别成为孤雁。”

谁知道啊，

走来走去，

却又成了孤单。

看城头：

那染红的旗帜，染了暮色；

老城门洞的砖瓦，刻着雨痕与苔斑的昏黄；

甬道上的青石条，磨平了棱角，藏着脚印的浅窝，

从不说出一句曾经的温柔。

双手交叉抱在胸前，指节冻得发僵，

抵御不住冷风卷着回声，

往心窝里灌。

你，

还是走了。

我在山谷，看见天空之城了。

那里有太阳、月亮、星星。

在它们爱的感召下，

曲曲弯弯的山路抚摸着远古山石，

风栽的树木依偎着岁月轮廓。

小草使劲眨着眼睛，劝我别走，

它也好久不见来人。

残叶上的露珠滚动着，亮晶晶的耀眼；

蚂蚁们忙着藏匿搬运来的食物。

我忽然心疼这万物的不容易，

不忍回首，便要开始新的征程——

我要走出这谷底，

去看外面的世界。

恐惧，是暗施的一道魔咒。

心底的念想，化作奇形怪状的谶语，

像未干的墨迹，在宣纸上晕开。

所思，竟都一一应验。

这魔咒曾让我胆寒，

哪怕偶有一星半点的善念，也难破这虚妄。

“善念如烛火，在风中摇晃。”

我要重写生命的作业：

其一，世间事，本无什么大不了；

其二，万念皆空，又有何惧；

其三，阳光漫过的地方，总有一角璀璨夺目。

睁开惺忪睡眼，原来一切都是最好的安排；

其四，若不能震彻云霄，便轻声哼唱岁月的歌谣。

你看，星星眨眼的瞬间，亦是人间的光。

唤热心朋友，都聚到你身边。

我哭着打字，早已看不清笔画。

请告诉所有善良的人：

你做的事情，如希望的光，

照亮了今后的路。

你拍摄的不一定很好，

但最起码让所有屏幕，都看见你的善良。

我知道，你是在做善良的事。

心里的想法，总要带着冷静的感受。

一切都有辉映，一切都在变好。

这人间的光，本就该这样，

一寸寸，漫过岁月的纸笺。

Thoughts Like Ink

By: Golden Splendor

Thoughts are like thick ink, flowing across the page—

Impossible to erase,

Impossible to blot out,

Growing denser still.

Youth—

A passage through blood and fire,

A streak of brilliant shooting star.

Nothing to boast of,

It belongs to everyone,

Yet it all depends on how we use it.

Years stretch long,

But pivotal moments are but a few.

Grasp the measure of it,

And dare to sing atop the waves,

Amidst the surging tides.

A solitary swan, flying alone,

Wings slice through cold clouds, feather tips shaking off snow-white fragments;

Its eyes do not see the distant mountains,

But its heart feels the snow of yesterday.

No graceful dance partner by its side,

Only the whoosh of wings beating the cold wind, ringing in its ears.

Where have you all gone?

Is there anyone, mid-flight,

Who has vanished into some corner of mountains and rivers?

Or perhaps built a nest,

In some remote mountain nook?

The elders say: "Do not end up a lonely swan in old age."

Who would have thought,

Wandering here and there,

I would fall into loneliness once more.

Look at the city wall:

The dyed-red flag, tinged with the glow of dusk;

The bricks and tiles of the old city gate cave, carved with the dim yellow of rain marks and moss;

The bluestone slabs of the corridor, worn smooth at the edges, hiding the shallow hollows of footprints—

They never utter a word of the tenderness that once was.

Arms crossed tightly over my chest, knuckles stiff with cold,

I cannot fend off the cold wind, carrying echoes,

Pouring straight into my heart.

You—

Still left in the end.

In the valley, I catch sight of the city of the sky.

There lie the sun, the moon, and the stars.

Under the inspiration of their love,

The winding mountain paths caress the ancient rocks,

The wind-planted trees lean against the contours of time.

Grass blades blink eagerly, urging me not to leave—

It has been so long since anyone came this way.

Dewdrops on withered leaves roll, bright and dazzling;

Ants busily hide the food they have carried back.

A sudden compassion stirs in me for all living things’ hardships.

Unwilling to look back, I resolve to embark on a new journey—

I will climb out of this valley,

To see the world beyond.

Fear is a hidden curse cast by no one knows who.

Thoughts in my heart transform into grotesque prophecies,

Like wet ink spreading across rice paper.

Everything I thought has come true, one by one.

This curse once filled me with dread,

For even a flicker of kindness could not break this illusion.

"Kindness is like a candle flame, flickering in the wind."

I will rewrite the homework of life:

First, nothing in this world is truly a big deal;

Second, if all thoughts are empty, what is there to fear?

Third, where sunlight shines, there is always a corner that glows brilliantly.

Opening my drowsy eyes, I realize everything is for the best;

Fourth, if I cannot shake the heavens with my voice, I will hum the ballads of time softly.

See? The moment the stars twinkle is also the light of the mortal world.

Gather all kind-hearted friends by your side.

I type through tears, no longer able to make out the strokes clearly.

Please tell all good people:

What you do is like the light of hope,

Illuminating the road ahead.

Your shots may not be perfect,

But at the very least, all screens can see your kindness.

I know—you are doing what is good.

Thoughts in the heart must always be tempered with calm reflection.

Everything resonates, everything is getting better.

This light of the mortal world—this is how it ought to be,

Spreading inch by inch, across the paper of time.