Looking for exquisite prose on the theme of caring for the environment

Selected Prose Poems · Qingfeng Mingyue

Poetic Confession (6 Chapters)

1. At the first glance, facing you, I saw a green The fruit. The hot fire in my soul flashed in the gray air, and a sharp sword of feeling pierced my body as hard as iron.

On the road of life, I have searched for too much. The ups and downs and ups and downs have reduced my life to nothing. An inconspicuous hut, built in the darkest time. Some dry leaves of thought hang on my branches unwilling to lose. It is still the season of spring, but the breath of autumn is strong and astonishing.

On that soft and warm afternoon, I really wanted to shake my whole body and hand over some unseasonal burdens to history that is no longer important to me; to reveal my long-sleeping eagle personality. Nothing left. Under the sun, my fierce and fierce spirit like a tiger and leopard was reduced to a naked tree. In your tenderness that has not yet awakened, it rises like a mountain, becoming a majestic scenery and a majestic obsession.

2. The days that followed were the most dazzling and distinctive scene in the pain that I experienced in dozens of spring and autumn years. I walked on the fresh wilderness, the sunshine was so bright, the trees and grass were so lovely, especially the restless singing of the birds, the monotony and boringness suddenly disappeared far away. For a butterfly and a bee, sometimes I lost my way.

For these, it is all because of your existence. In my limited field of vision, you are a green plant that is growing happily, and you are a reserved plant that attracts people's imagination. The wings of my thinking suddenly overflowed with aura, and some of the dust that once burst out from the pollution and covered my thoughts thickly turned into ashes in your eyes. My language and my dreams are like taking a naked bath out of the blue sea, feeling cool and pure.

I can’t remember how many days and nights, you and I have been together. Some topics about literature and life enrich our originally lonely space, like a carefree child holding a bunch of fragrant angustifolia flowers. Those things about wind, sand, rain and snow can no longer become songs. and obstacles to laughter. Yes, for me who has gone through many vicissitudes of life, it is no longer the time to hold hands and be happy. However, how can I remain indifferent to your joy that blooms like a bird?

3. However, I cannot say that I love you in front of you. Maybe this is my destiny, it is destined that I have to carry too much weight. The most beautiful two words in the world, after decades of twists and turns, I never thought that they would never be destined for me in my life.

If I can’t say I love you, maybe this is not the spirit of a good man. A picture of tenacity and majesty, two strong and arrogant arms, outstanding courage, and the fascinating plot of a drunken walk. I have poured all my efforts into it, but the night walking above my head is always so smooth and always so heavy. It tightens my rope and leaves my hoofs and feet with nowhere to escape!

The sun rises slowly in the morning and sets slowly in the evening. If it loves, it will be able to love and produce results; if it hates, it will be able to hate and produce results. I yearn for the brilliance of the sun. Compared with the sun, I am extremely small. I can only hold that unspeakable word in my heart, and let the difficult season of plum rain carve the unforgettable silver moon. The fresh and mysterious artistic conception in the Garden of Eden can really only be a distant dream.

4. You left, on a winter day, none of us expected. Of course, that includes you and me. You left so suddenly, so quickly, and so elegantly. The fragrance of tulips has disappeared from my landscape. Red Candle, which I am so obsessed with, I haven’t realized yet, where have you been?

The winter day you left was actually a pretty good day. In the morning, you asked a colleague to send a message to me, asking me to wait for you after get off work, saying that you had something to do. However, I waited for a long time and never saw your shadow. I thought my premonition was good, but on this day, my mood was like a pond where no stone had ever been thrown. The day before, there was not even a dream shadow.

When I didn't see you, I looked at the two birds outside the window. I didn't understand why you broke the appointment.

I don’t know why you want to leave! Moreover, he left in such a hurry. You said that you are very happy and happy when you talk to me together. You left because of you? Is it because of me? Or is it because of something else? Although, I finally knew where you were going and what you meant. You left, just like a storm passed, sweeping away the polar regions deep in my brain. My various words have shriveled up into withered grass killed by frost.

5. It was beyond my expectation to receive your letter. This is the path you came from thousands of miles away through hard work. That delicate handwriting, that warm language, that open-minded juicy fruit, displayed on my pale desk, it is more than just a bouquet of shining roses!

Yes, in this materially suffocating world, I have no interest in writing letters. Those pink boats that I yearned for and obsessed me with when I was a boy have long been in concrete buildings, depleted and withered due to lack of rain. In the wilderness of abrupt stones and rubble, I am a wanderer covered with animal bones. I have spread out the paper and picked up the pen. Some symbols that are more barbaric than primitive, some monsters that are colder than the night, make my antique green expression become a kind of absurd totem on the plateau.

Sit under the quiet light and be infected by your thoughts. Some sentences surged through the hut like fire, like the late spring tide. Some dreams that were poured over by water actually quickly came to life in my incomplete vision, then became bright red, and then became full. A tinkling music like a stream sounded around me. My state of mind immersed in tenderness is like the smoke rising in the sunset, shy, kind and beautiful!

6. I can’t tell where the boat of time will drift; I can’t tell what kind of trip rope the rope of fate will throw at me. You and I meet each other in such a season, and the chance of being overturned by happiness may never be green and brilliant. We gaze at the freedom of bees and butterflies, and we open our lily-like lips. We cannot suck greedily and forgetfully, we can only silently bless the bees and butterflies.

In the history of Eden’s suffering, what a cruel picture this is! I long for the vigor and arrogance of a robber, whose dusty feet have been cast with too much iron and lead; I long for the beauty of a prisoner, who lingers at the gate of heaven, but cannot restore a happy plant. Wild flower. A kind of vortex, who is the antidote for us to pass completely through the death zone?

Bless silently, greet silently; face each other silently, and feel heavy. This is the image of a red candle. The blue sky is high in the sky, so why can't birds fly in the rain? We go from spring to summer, but what about winter? Will the cold and deep winter suddenly surround us?