Ask for an essay "Reed of Thought"

In my memory, there is a thick reed. She is like a free spirit, handsome and charming, alone in the barren land by the river in the indifference away from the secular world. The thin bones and muscles show the poetry of life, and the dense reed flowers are like smiling faces, condensing the bitterness and tranquility of the field into eternal silence.

Sandy reeds rooted in the beach are unrestrained and swaying beside the fiber bridge, full of vitality. From lush lake green to dignified black, it is still graceful. Even if we climb the mountain of the season and wait for the arrival of the Millennium, the dazzling reed will blend with the white clouds in the sky and extend to places beyond the reach of the moonlight. It is still white and full of vigorous tension, and then draw the end of life in the cold purity.

This white-haired reed is a wisp of Qiu Guang floating from the woodcutter's firewood, and a touch of desolation lingering from the village girl's brow. Like a woman with fragrant clothes and a shadow on her temples, she waded through the water, and from the Book of Songs to the White Dew as Frost, she became a swan song throughout the ages. In the whirling water, the young sailor rowing a pole and rowing a boat, and my fair lady on the water side, against the dense reeds, have become the most beautiful poems in the ancient civilization of 3 thousand years.

If you send a raft to trace the source of reed, you will also find that the desolate and beautiful reed flower can easily arouse deep vicissitudes and historical pain.

Xiao River, in the sad melody, Jing Ke bid farewell to Yan Taizi Dan and set foot on the point of no return. The reed flowers behind him must have blown in the rustling cold wind. On the Guluo River, Qu Yuan, a courtier who sang songs, hid his face and wept, and looked up at the sky and asked. Treacherous court official is in power, the king of Chu is fatuous and lives in the temple, so he can't solve problems for the people; Going to the countryside cannot share your worries. The loneliness of life stagnates in the heart, rushes to the chest and makes the poet jump into the river. Ripples are the tears of reeds, flowing in the wet night. The branches and leaves of green life, wrapped in the reverence and yearning of thousands of people in Qian Qian, Qian Qian, plunged into the long river of history and became the deepest commemoration of the Dragon Boat Festival.

I really own reeds in college. I like walking by the river behind the school best. Dense reeds spread slowly in the distance like endless ribbons. Fringed reeds, like clouds, like yarn and fog in the moonlight, are filled with fragrance. Milky twilight flows like smoke, birds whisper among reeds, cicadas sing and insects sing. Quiet, gentle, poetic and within reach. If it's Sunday and the sun is slowly flowing, I weave a boat with reed leaves and gently put it into the river to watch it drift away with the wind. More often, I hold a scroll in my hand, under the reed flowers, watching Qu Yuan angrily, watching Taibai drunk and watching Dongpo crazily. In the transparent state of mind woven by continuous autumn rain and velvet reed flowers, I read the sadness, pain, loneliness, mellow, frank and bitter between the lines. The bitterness of vicissitudes and historical tragedies is like a sharp blade of blood. Our predecessors crushed it and swallowed it, preferring to be heartbroken and smiling, and gently saying that the past is like smoke!

People are weak, just like a reed, but they are strong, and they glow with infinite tenacity from weakness, which even they may not realize, and accompany us all the way forward. Pascal, a French philosopher, said: "Thought forms man's greatness. Man is just a reed, the most fragile thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed. "

This thinking reed is you and me. ...