Under the night, Guangshu Temple is as peaceful as a sleeping child. The drizzle silently baptizes this ancient church. There is a faint light burning in the skull-shaped glass container on top of the ivory-like Roman column in front of the door. The two heavy oak doors are tightly closed. I lowered my hood and walked up the marble steps. My boots made a crisp sound when they hit the marble floor, hitting my heart abruptly in the quiet night. I felt like I had walked through a long life in just a dozen steps. Memories of my past life surround me bit by bit, and the waves of memories cover me.
When you open the door, the flowers are swaying gently under the soft light of the votive candles, emitting bursts of fragrance.
Lily as white as wax, with water shining on its leaves, rose as bright red as blood, petals dotted with water drops like tears that stung my heart. The long staircase disappears behind the circular arch. On the walls of this corridor are murals of gods with golden frames that extend to the altar.
I pulled down my hood, untied my rain-wet cloak, and slowly approached the altar and walked through the corridor, like a saint walking on a pilgrimage. At this moment, I was no longer in pain. The moonlight penetrated the large rose window glass and shone on me. I stepped step by step towards the white jade statue behind the altar. His shoulder-length, slightly curly hair gently clings to his delicate and picturesque face, his arms hang down by his sides, his gaze is locked in a certain place, and his faint smile carries a fatalistic despair and helplessness.
Moses, if I lose the qualification to stay in your memory, who can prove that we have loved you so much.