The world is so big, but we happened to meet each other; our thoughts are so long, but they point in the only direction. When you are here, you are the world; when you are not here, the world is you. Missing is an invisible thread. I gently pull at this end of the thread. Are you trembling at the other end? Missing is like the rain falling on the lake of my heart, making endless ripples and gently submerging all my thoughts. May all the longings that travel over the mountains and ridges reach a warm shore and turn into a hug without words when we meet.
I fold my thoughts about you into the starlight and hide them in the evening breeze. May they caress your dreams for me. Time is not an antidote. It makes the shallow ones fade away, but it makes the deep thoughts settle into the annual rings of life. Circle after circle, it is you. The moon is your unread reply, hanging quietly in the night sky. Some people are like breathing in their hearts, never mentioned and never forgotten. Every frame of memory hides the password of longing, waiting to unlock all the warmth when we meet again. Crossing the sea of people, just to hear your distant echo. Walking through a familiar street corner, the air seems to be filled with your laughter from yesterday, making today's thoughts clearer.
Purpose: Inspiring stories