月，冷冷的在青穆的窗前飄來飄去，閃著冰冰涼的眸光。一次次地敲打著我的心窗，瑟瑟的軀體，以同樣的冰冷，體會這嘩啦啦地墜，一片又一片，一地的紛紛碎碎。
接了母親的電話,心和著窗外的海，潮起又潮落一直向他鄉一點點地飄去。月缺月圓搖著鍾的翅，許許多多經年的記憶擦肩而過，許久仿佛又很短暫，緩緩地穿著一件件背影離去，去向未知，如霧。
望風雨飄搖，一彎冷月，怕孤寒，攬幾片灰雲遮影。
月光漸漸朦朧，霜露漸濃，月拂袖熄了燈，留世間一片沉寂。
我獨斟寂廖，一飲而盡。仰首淚紛紛，盛一捧秋涼。
答應了朋友要給博客寫新文章。但棲在額頭的閑適不知不覺中已飛走，尋不到影。隻聞見沉鬱的滋味漸濃，飛在岔路口盤旋，意悠悠，緣來緣去匆匆。現在，隻有拿起專業書讀下去，讀到累了倦了，讀到黎明的晨光開始上升，讀到昨夜的痛陷入了忘卻。
飄洋過海的對岸，母親的依戀,盼念和希望，係在那一片白帆。
她不知道帆的destiny注定是漂泊。。。。。。
'7年之後，我要去中國西部，'心裏默默地想。
那一年的夏天，西部的孤山裏添了異國的氣息，卷了默默的白色，灑落學堂的窗台。幾個為中國教育義務耕耘的英國人，慈愛的笑顏，飄過西北的土地，溫暖了一個個微顫的夢，漾過一雙雙充滿希望的眼眸。隻是那一個瞬間，我長長久久地觸動，深深地滲入經脈，連帶著心肺在風中發抖，被這光輝的生命。那瞬間的震憾，那些重生的觀念，已刻在心裏，和著7年後的
The calling from mother and heart a long time echoes in the sea upon the tide’s ebb and flow, rising and falling, and saddle away on the surges mile after mile, into the distance. The moon's waxing – waning with the pendulous wings of clock; Here memories enter with old age, and pass by; Turning, they leave, putting on each and each one’s sight of their backs away, veined in a wandering direction, vague as fog. I promised friends to precede some articles to my Blog. Then the laziness perched in the head had imperceptibly gone off — there was no trace after it. Just a smell of the creeping depression revolves and flows down.
Sipping alone that delight of loneliness, I lift the solitude to my mouth and drink up. My head Lifts up and my tears fall down, carrying a palm of autumn chill.
Now, better go down upon my academic books, reading on when I grow weary, when a climbing gleam spread of dawn begins, and when griefs of yesterday infuse the forgetfulness.
At the anchor across the sea, mom ties her concerns, expectations and hope of that white sail, as a ship will.
She doesn’t know the destiny of her sail is doomed to drift…
‘I would set myself in next destination to Western China in 7 years’
I murmured to myself in the heart’s core.
Back in that afternoon, the solitude of Western China adds an exotic aura, flaring the silent white, scattering the windowsill of classes Some British volunteers provide education provision for the kids, for the people in that remote region of my country. I was strongly and truly moved in spirit and emotion, piercing every vein, mingling with my heart-liver; and shivering when the wind blows through. I was moved in these lives of the glory.
That trembling of the great moment upon those reborn ideas has been dwelling and engraving upon the heart, on that afternoon packed in a hope, not yet a plan- in about 7 years. I determined my path in life for that hope and for all.
I know the barrier to my roots, leaving reality behind my real life, in a big way….
Hope, not yet a plan
我明白我根底的‘障’，我終不明白務實為何物。。。。。。
A cold Moon sways, upon the window of blue-deepened smoke, glittering ice-pale glances. The shivering limbs lean into the cold, the moonlight constantly hammers the window of my heart in loud sounds of droppings when crumbled in pieces, one fallen upon fallen over the shattered brimming ground
