Hear Your Voice Composition (Collection 17)

Listening to Your Voice Composition (1)

I stood beside you and heard your voice, together with the slight breath, straight into my heart—— notes preceding the text of a book or following the title of an article

Everything in the world can speak, and they all have their own voice. Even if no one listens, they will always use something to express themselves.

The sea is full of waves, but we can only hear the voice in its appearance. What kind of story is telling in its heart? Joyful, sad, or plain, we never know.

No one has heard the sound of plants, but this does not mean that they cannot express their hearts. They lie quietly in the soil every day, absorbing the warmth of the sun, and are lazy all day; But do you know that from the day when it broke through the ground, it will have to accept several samsaras, learn to be strong, learn to survive, do people know its inner feelings?

Finally, there are human beings.

Human beings are the most advanced creatures, with perfect organs bestowed by God. We talk every day, but no one knows how many secrets are hidden in our hearts except ourselves. No one knows how much pain, conspiracy and joy you hide in your heart.

But all living things in the world interact with each other, just like some living things interact with each other.

The sea raises shells and conches, but they tell the heart of the sea, no matter what mood it is.

The roots and stems of plants moisten the leaves, which tells the heart of plants. When plants are sad, their leaves will wither; When it is happy, the leaves will be full.

People have good friends beside them. They are the people you trust most. You can talk about everything. But at that time, you will also be the most trusted person. You should cherish it. The secret you keep must not be passed on.

Every living thing in the world has a voice. You should feel and listen attentively.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (2)

In nature, there are many wonderful and interesting sounds, just like playing a beautiful tune.

Hey, did you hear the sound? "Sanding......", it began to rain. The only sound in nature was the "rustling" rain, which was extremely quiet, like a low and sweet little order! "Huh..." accompanied by the prelude of "homophonic" wind, the main tune came up, turning from light rain into downpour, such as a song "Horse Racing". The rapid sound pattern was strong, lively and unrestrained, making you feel comfortable and happy! The rain is beating the leaves and stones in the nature, as if an elegant celebrity is playing the piano. The piano is very soft and beautiful, just like a tune sliding through my heart! When the rain stopped, the water droplets accumulated on the leaves slowly dropped into the small puddles below, making a clear sound of "Ding... Dong...", which was extremely pleasant!

Hey, did you hear the sound? After the wind and rain, everything is watered by the spirit, and the birds sing more clear and graceful songs. The insects also hum a song. The chirping of insects and the chirping of birds are like a military symphony, which is extremely clean. Plants that have just been moistened appear more fresh and energetic. A light wind blows, shush, close your eyes and listen. When the light wind blows the leaves, it makes a slight sound. This is the breath of the wind! Grasshopper played the violin, and several butterflies danced beside it.

Oh, the night is coming, everything seems quiet, and the day is over!

In fact, there are too many soft and beautiful voices in nature. I have to keep listening and exploring!

Listening to Your Voice Composition (3)

Listening to Your Voice Primary School Composition

In daily study, work and life, everyone has written a composition, which can be divided into timed composition and non timed composition according to the time limit of writing. I believe that writing a composition is a headache for many people. The following is Xiao Biandun's primary school composition after hearing your voice. Welcome to learn and reference, and I hope it can help you.

Put down the pen, close the textbook, plug in the earphone, and sit in the garden at dusk. It seems that I am the only person in the world. The huge black and white space, with the broken paint seeping in bit by bit, dyed the lonely world with some color. Maybe there is too much leakage. It looks like the thick water color, the light waves jumping from the fingertips, and the banyan trees have wiped out the last beauty. The butterfly hurries away, the grass falls back reluctantly, and the birds flash in the sight. In its world, all living things are undergoing a great migration. Only in front of me, the falling mountain wind slowly blew across my face, and the dark orange one -- the last sunset today, faded in the hazy mountain scenery, faded... The world only left me and the dark night without color.

"What is that?" "I was in a special place for the first time." When I read the awkward English sentence in fear, my throat hurt like smoking when I sorted it out. The whole class burst into laughter, and the teacher closed his mouth and motioned me to sit down. This kind of sound is not completely pure, with a kind of messy noise, like sharpened daggers, slowly, into the heart, and then pulled out bloody, and then... I silently bowed my head, let the sea wind slap my face, stood on the wind sharp wave mouth, a inadvertently surging up on both sides, threw myself into the cold sea. Sucking seawater and bleeding from eardrum. After the calm wind and rain, a beach of tawny unknown objects floated on the sea. At this time, I covered my ears for only five seconds. I hate this kind of laughter, but sometimes it can be as cold as ice and melt at any time. Perhaps, this is the charming and rich voice that comes from the trembling throat.

Turning out of the house, the morning sun swept over the treetops, and the sound of breaking in the branches came clearly. "Da, da, da" shoes step by step on the hard cement road. In the morning, greetings came one after another, and occasionally several children made noises. In front of the pork stall passing by the granny's house, the opera sound of "babbling" is particularly beautiful. Maybe only a rooster can sing the round tune. I jumped lightly over the railing.

Time also has its own voice. The moment of fireworks blooming in the air, or the cry of disappearance in the alley. I knocked on the corner of my desk, looked at the autumn day, and took a breath of heat into my palm. It's already cold. I seem to hear the sound of snowflakes falling.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (4)

Even the dark sky will one day be torn by the dazzling sunlight, through the dark clouds, dispel the haze, and glow with the original brilliance. And they are the most shining sunshine and hope when the world is darkest.

I tightly held this small rectangular piece of paper, and the edge of it had already been rubbed up. This is a concert ticket. To be exact, this is the first concert ticket in my life. Going to the concert has always been my wish. Dissatisfied with the "farsightedness" on the Internet and the love for idols, I am eager to realize this wish. One day, my mother could no longer stand my chattering in her ear, and finally agreed to let me go to the concert.

When many people eat watermelons in front of the air conditioner at home, I stand in the hot sun, waiting for admission. The sweat that is about to "turn against the current into a river" is enough to express my sincere love for idols for so many years. He entered the field and found his own position. In a short time, you can see the people who have loved them for so many years, and then you can "dream come true" and hear the voice that has haunted your mind for many years - this is the first time. The lights went dark - they were about to enter the arena without any precaution, so they appeared. Instead of whispering, the girl screamed one after another, deafening. Suddenly, everything was quiet. In the whole meeting room, in my mind, there was only the voice I had always dreamed of. That voice is no longer through headphones, but across the stream of people. For the first time, it came into my ears and reverberated in my mind for a long time. It is such a real voice, which really makes people feel like a dream. That song, translated into destiny, tells simple and delicate things in a warm voice, warming my heart bit by bit. Is this naturally flowing song more beautiful because of your company? The first time, so close to you; For the first time, I heard your voice

Maybe years later, we have become crazy, like him no longer in his prime. I can still remember that the unyielding voice is a legend buried in the depths of my years.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (5)

I wait for every gentle dawn, every moment of non-stop thinking, greedy, listen to your voice.

Since then, your world has been closed. Once I finally fell asleep and went back.

I sprinkled some wind in the feeling that came to my face, deep and heavy, my dream and memory could not distinguish each other. Sleep, good night, music, gazing, imagination, life, fireworks, nostalgia.

Ten thousand keys could not wake me up, and I smashed the language heavily. I want to have a heavy rain, just a downright heavy rain. However, I heard your song and the voice in your memory. The sunset of that day was silent and dignified. The voice cries your name exhaustively, and your faint voice is rotating in the music box, silent and sighing. There are fewer and fewer dreams, but it's a pity that there is no "if". Try again and listen to my breath - there is no sound in your world anymore.

You know what? I have traveled through several years to collect all the voices in the world. Look for all your footprints in the thin time. Loneliness with 30000 miles is like light and darkness, only sadness and tears. Since then, fireworks have been cold, and I have collided with loneliness. I'll sing it to you. You should listen well and laugh if you want to cry.

With your singing, I fled in haste under the shackles of the city. I may never be afraid like this again. Just a case list about your ear blindness clearly appears. My heart is broken and disintegrated. I can't face such a thorough reality in front of me.

The stars finally fell, so cold. It is in vain to try to hold tightly. After all, I can't afford to lose all my possessions. Too many regrets. I stepped on the leaves and held our memories in my hands. The leaves trembled and rustled. I still stick to our songs, holding our memories. The black and white keys on the edge of the finger are struggling. I can't turn back. Looking back at you, I feel a little pain and numbness. The sound of the piano resounds bleakly in the music room, echoing the hot yearning. I'm alone, and I can't cooperate with you any more. In my mind, our world is too beautiful, with melodious music and overflowing memories. Deep and brilliant. Our hearts are full of light, we are not afraid of darkness, and we say we will shine in the future. The white recorder, carrying all the sounds of the world, is endless, do you still remember?

You always like to say that sentence. If one day I can't hear the voice, what will happen to you?

I keep crying.

We were standing on both sides of the railway station in Wutong Lane. I reached out and recorded the sound of the train rumbling. The train was very long. I felt uneasy when I didn't see you for a few minutes. Because I was afraid, I looked back and saw your delicate body, stood there and smiled at me. We had ice cream together. Because we need to record the sound of tearing paper; Passing the clear river, stop, listen carefully, look for, and record the babbling sound; In the dark green world, I shook the tree, and you raised the recorder on tiptoe. The leaves on the branches kept shaking, and the crisp sound was deposited in a small machine. The fallen leaves are just under our feet. We piled them up and recorded the sound of trampling on the fallen leaves. Just ignore the thoughts written on the fallen leaves, forget fatigue, only happiness and smile.

The journey is beautiful. When we grow old one day, it is still the most beautiful time. We stopped at a beef noodle restaurant and got two bowls. Like a cat, it greets sweet food heartily, with endless aftertaste. You turn on the recorder and record the sound of us eating noodles. Riding bicycles, we walked half way. Record the sound of vehicles coming and going. You will lean against the corner and fall asleep unconsciously. I always carefully record your snoring voice. You don't know that the wind chime in front of the window is jingling, and the clock ticks lonely, as if you can grow old in an instant.

You left, you left what you thought was the center of the world. The voice seems to be your life. You are still weak, fresh and chilling. Who recites your sweet words, who loves your years, who appreciates your cherry red color. My heart is flooded and hollowed out. I'm too tired. In the cold winter of the eternal night, I desperately seek for the exit of light. Like being trapped in the desert, I long to return to the universe. It will be fine and pass. Tears always ask themselves questions and answers. I never give up leaving when I was born. Time looked at me cruelly and coughed up heartache. Tired dragging me away, your voice, regret, incomplete, but you can not hear.

Maybe the sunshine didn't want to be generous, maybe the rain just irrigated itself, like a candle that forgot to blow out after making a wish. I thought my dream had not been finished yet. I felt the silence of your world, a silence, peace, and the loss of the most brilliant place in your life. You can no longer hear the voice of the world, you can no longer hear all the voices we used to laugh together, travel together, and play the piano together. I regret that I didn't cherish those times, and I always thought that having is enough.

At that time, none of us thought about eternity.

The night is dreamless, deep sleep. I was cold and left me behind. Do you hear me? I also want to ask me, before dawn, the tears have ebbed and flowed. Listen to your voice. At least, when I get lost, I will find the exit.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (6)

I stood beside you and heard your voice, together with the slight breath, straight into my heart. notes preceding the text of a book or following the title of an article

Everything in the world can speak, and they all have their own voice. Even if no one listens, they will always use something to express themselves.

The sea is full of waves, but we can only hear the voice in its appearance. What kind of story is telling in its heart? Joyful, sad, or plain, we never know.

Hear your voice

Finally, there are human beings.

But all living things in the world interact with each other, just like some living things interact with each other.

The sea raises shells and conches, but they tell the heart of the sea, no matter what mood it is.

The roots and stems of plants moisten the leaves, which tells the heart of plants. When plants are sad, their leaves will wither; When it is happy, the leaves will be full.

Every living thing in the world has a voice. You should feel and listen attentively.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (7)

Whenever I hear your voice, no matter how worried I am, it can dispel the haze in my heart. I hear your voice, O sea. It makes me happy, calms me, and makes me ponder for a long time.

I hear your voice, singing and laughing, and my heart is happy with it.

Stepping on the white and soft beach, the gravel at the foot passes with the gap between the toes, and the sea breeze comes with its unique smell, salty and sticky. You rush past with the waves, and the roaring voice rushes into my ears. I hear your voice, which seems to chase and laugh with the life in the sea, like a fierce argument with the rocks, Or you can sing by yourself. You must be very happy, I think. Perhaps there is a crystal palace at the bottom of the sea for you to play, and Robinson on the island is talking with you. I heard your laughter and your singing, which immediately drove away my boredom, and my heart gradually became clear with the waves.

I heard your voice whispering, and it seemed to be whispering, which calmed my erratic thoughts.

The scattered stars in the night sky are glimmering, and the moon is just peeping out quietly, softly sprinkling a piece of moonlight, reflecting the sparkling waves. I sit beside you, listening to you sing in a low voice. Maybe you are tired of playing. At this time, you are not as energetic as you were in the daytime. You just beat the beach slowly, and your voice has become calm, calming my restless heart. I looked at you, boundless, but suddenly realized my insignificance. I think it's wonderful to hear your voice. Your mind is so broad when you accommodate hundreds of rivers. Your voice suddenly makes my heart much brighter. I hope one day I can be as broad and calm as you.

I hear your voice. You keep running and moving forward, which fills my heart with hope.

Once again, when I came to the seaside, I saw that you were still not forced, still happy, and still surging. I suddenly began to reflect on myself, whether I had never been so persistent. I heard you running, and I heard your breathing voice, which never stopped. I suddenly understand that I can't stop, I must keep working hard, to struggle. I heard you hit the rocks, I heard you still did not stop. I think I should also be like you, no matter how, we should be full of confidence and hope, no matter what difficulties we encounter, we should not stop our steps. Neither rocks nor undercurrents can stop you, nor can they stop me. Maybe I can't rush around like you day and night, but I will always go forward, to chase, to touch the other side of the dream.

People always say, "Facing the sea, spring flowers bloom." The sea, your voice inspires me, inspires me, leads me, keeps moving forward, embraces the future, and embraces your own spring flowers bloom.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (8)

"Good evening! You should go back to trusteeship again. The new week is starting. Come on, young man." Greeting every Sunday evening has become a convention for me and Grandpa Zhang to meet.

Grandpa Zhang is a security guard in our community. He is over 60 years old and of medium stature. Don't think he is old and strong. The white hair and wrinkles on his face are his constant patrolling day and night. Time has given him "gifts".

Grandpa Zhang is dedicated and friendly, and has a very harmonious relationship with the residents.

That day, the north wind whistled and cut my face like a knife. For my schooling, my parents sent me to my home in Xi'an. Our family moved to this community with a lot of money. When we entered the house, Grandpa Zhang stopped us. After some questioning, he confirmed that we were new residents in the community. Without saying a word, Grandpa Zhang lifted several bags of heavy objects with his rough hands to help us carry them home. One trip, two trips, three trips, everyone was tired and panting, but Grandpa Zhang patted the dust on his body, smiled and said, "Welcome home!" He also enthusiastically told us the time to throw garbage and introduced the residents' leisure sky garden.

Grandpa Zhang carefully registered our information. He spoke a lot of Shaanxi dialect. After many inquiries and confirmation, he filled in the form. Grandpa Zhang has strong fingers, but he writes carefully to ensure that no mistakes are made in every step, neither causing trouble to themselves nor to us.

"Thank you, Uncle. My son will go to school here alone in the future, and please take more care of him." Dad shook Grandpa's hand, his voice trembling. Grandpa Zhang patted me on the shoulder with his thick palm and said with a hearty smile, "If you have anything to do in the future, you can find grandpa." Grandpa Zhang's simple and honest voice with a smile was like the warm sun in winter, giving warmth to people's hearts.

Over a long period of time, Grandpa Zhang and I gradually got to know each other, and his kindness also made our feelings deeper. Whenever I return home after a busy week's study, I always go to the security booth to chat with grandpa Zhang for a while, and the tiredness of a busy week disappears instantly. Grandpa Zhang knows that it is not easy for me to come to Shaanxi to study alone from Henan, and he always takes care of me. Just like his grandfather in his hometown, he makes me feel more friendly.

"It's cold, kid, put on more clothes and be careful of catching a cold." When I came in, I heard your voice again, like the warm sun in spring, warming me, a student from a foreign country!

Listening to Your Voice Composition (9)

My father brought back three puppies in the summer when I was 12 years old.

I remember the first time I saw you, you shook your little tail around my feet. I jumped to the steps because of fear, and I laughed that you were too short to jump up. Just wag your tail and run to your friends to play with them. I still speak ill of you behind your back. How did your mother make you like this?

I remember when I fed you something, you went into the millet porridge. Your little face was covered with millet. You quickly shook your head and threw the millet on me, causing me to be told by my mother.

I remember that after you had a full meal, the round and bulging belly was like a big ball. Every time I slapped your belly, you ran away in fear, which made me want to carry you back.

I remember when I asked you to climb the stairs, you climbed all 24 stairs. You were the fastest and best dog I ever taught.

I still remember you and I were in the sun at Grandma's house. The sun was very soft that day, the wind was blowing softly, and we lay on the ground with cool back. There are delicious food waiting for you. At that time, I knew what enjoyment was. I hold you. Although you don't want to, I finally conquered you. I slept like this for 4 hours, and it was not hot at all in summer at that time.

You and I are still running on the mountain. You run behind me, and soon you will disappear. I finally know how anxious my mother felt when I ran to my aunt's home alone when I was three years old. The sika deer in my heart is touching and jumping at an accelerated speed. The sweat on my back is like a downpour, splashing down. I run with great strides, calling your name. I cried, it was not sad tears, it was the wind, blowing my eyes sour.

I was happy when I heard "barking". When I looked back, you ran to me and threw yourself in my arms. There were no too many complaints, only too much luck.

On the last night at Grandma's house, you were gone when I woke up in the morning. I didn't fall for you. I was anxious to find you again. Instead, I sat under the swing and waited quietly. One hour, two hours, three hours... You haven't reappeared before my eyes for a long time. Are you lost? You lost your compass and can't find your home? Then I will become a compass to find your direction until I finally find you.

But just as I ran out of the gate, I was pulled back by a pair of powerful big hands and pulled me to the car. I have no ability to resist. I look for you from the narrow window. Sorry, I gave up. It was only when I realized that this was my mother's "Hongmen Feast", and I ate with relish

When the car was on fire, your small and weak figure appeared in the pulled rearview mirror. I turned back happily, and I knew you would come back to me.

The car drove away, but you were still running. Your heart rending cry. At that moment, I listened to every word you said carefully. I seemed to understand what you said. "Don't leave me, I haven't got on the car yet, wait for me, whine." You just ran straight to the concrete road, and you sat on the cold ground, and your cry still didn't stop.

It is the first time that I have interpreted what you said so authentically after being with you for so long. I don't ask you to eat and drink enough, but I ask you to live in peace. I hope you are still in the world today.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (10)

I heard your voice. It changed its appearance in the torrent of years, but it still has the ability to soothe the soul and let everything that has gone bloom and bear fruit again

"The cold autumn smoke rises on the waves, and the grass is green outside the setting sun". Since childhood, I have loved this ancient opera. Perhaps it is because I can always encounter a dream when I read details, or it is because I can always feel the whirl of time when listening, or it is because of you, Grandpa.

When I was a child, you always liked to ride a bike to take me "flying" on the ridge of the field. Although the road looks rough, I don't feel very bumpy. Maybe the low-lying places on the road are filled with the laughter of our grandparents. The sky is high and the clouds are light, and the green fields and yellow flowers make you feel very comfortable, so you sing a section of Henan Opera. I heard your voice, full of enthusiasm, full of simple local accent and love of life.

You like tea, too. In the morning, you always take a small tea table, a bamboo chair, make tea, and taste tea. I also moved a bench, snuggled up beside you, looked up to see the tea fog mixed with the morning fog, slowly rising and dispersing. You always look at me with a smile, take a sip of tea from time to time, and then close your eyes, full of aftertaste and enjoyment. Seeing my eyes were greedy, I picked up the teapot and poured a cup for myself. It was like a brave man drinking. I drank it at one go. Then I frowned and felt bitter in my mouth. But soon, a fragrance permeates the lips and teeth, making the eyebrows stretch. See, you said to me, "Tea is like life". I was only a Tiaonian at that time, and I didn't understand that many things were like tea. They began to be bitter, but they were sweet. When I asked you, you smiled and hummed a opera. I heard your voice, slightly hoarse, full of the vicissitudes of life.

To see you again was last winter. Gently open the courtyard door, you sit on a cane chair with your eyes half squinted. There is a radio beside the chair, singing and singing, and you hum along. I heard your voice, dry and hoarse, in the winter afternoon sunshine, was quietly taken away by the cold wind. I can't help feeling sad when I think of your loud voice. It turned out that the years were so ruthless. But when you look up and see me, I hear your voice no longer represents the cruelty of years, but contains the same surprise and favor as before. The fog in my heart also quietly dissipates.

I heard your voice. It breaks the barrier of time and space, letting everything that has gone bloom and bear fruit again. I saw the ridges of the fields curving, I smelled the faint fragrance of tea, and I heard the song curling up.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (11)

I stood beside you and heard your voice, together with the slight breath, straight into my heart—— notes preceding the text of a book or following the title of an article

Everything in the world can speak, and they all have their own voice. Even if no one listens, they will always use something to express themselves.

The sea is full of waves, but we can only hear the voice in its exterior. What kind of stories are told in its' inner heart '? Joyful, sad, or plain, we never know.

Finally, there are human beings.

But all living things in the world interact with each other, just like some living things interact with each other.

The sea raises shells and conches, but they tell the heart of the sea, no matter what mood it is.

The roots and stems of plants moisten the leaves, which tells the heart of plants. When plants are sad, their leaves will wither; When it is happy, the leaves will be full.

Every living thing in the world has a voice. You should feel and listen attentively.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (12)

Who is it? Who is calling in my ear? So eager and so gentle? I can't help putting my memory back to a few years ago.

That year, you were 7 years old and I was 5 years old.

We are in the same class. At the beginning of school, the teacher asked the students to introduce themselves on the platform. I am very timid. I am afraid that the Lucky Goddess will pick me. As a result, she "really let me go. I faltered on the stage, I, I, I..." Tears had begun to flow. At this time, "Ouch!" you cried, "Teacher, I have a stomachache, and I want her to accompany me." After saying that, she pointed her finger at me and winked at me mischievously. Later, after going out, I knew that you were intentional. Since then, we have become good friends who talk about everything.

That year, you called me "little girl" and I called you "little boy".

Being with you is my happiest time. You always frighten me into a daze. You told me that "lucky grass" can protect our friendship. If we eat it, our friendship will last forever. Then he ate a piece of grass and said it was bitter. After I saw you eat, I also ate. But I felt it sweet, so I smiled foolishly. You are at a loss.

That year, you called me "little crazy", and I called you "little liar".

How time flies! In a twinkling of an eye, we have been separated for three years. In the past three years, I have made many friends, but none of them can make me open my heart to speak my mind; In three years, I have tasted "Lucky Grass" many times, but none of them is sweet; In three years, I recalled all our 'silly things', but never saw your smile. I miss your tricks, my letter, and our innocence. You said we would meet, but I'm here. Where are you? Don't you really care about our friendship? Or have you lost all the stories about our town?

Every time you break into my dream without fear, but when you open your dim eyes, you find that you have gone away with a smile. I do not know when, a tear quietly passed.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (13)

Who is it? Who is calling in my ear? So eager and so gentle? I can't help putting my memory back to a few years ago.

That year, you were 7 years old and I was 5 years old.

That year, you called me "little girl" and I called you "little boy".

That year, you called me "little crazy", and I called you "little liar".

How time flies! In a twinkling of an eye, we have been separated for three years. In the past three years, I have made many friends, but none of them can make me open my heart to speak my mind; In three years, I have tasted "Lucky Grass" many times, but none of them is sweet; In three years, I recalled all our silly things, but never saw your smile. I miss your tricks, my letter, and our innocence. You said we would meet, but I'm here. Where are you? Don't you really care about our friendship? Or have you lost all the stories about our town?

Every time you break into my dream without fear, but when you open your dim eyes, you find that you have gone away with a smile. I do not know when, a tear quietly passed.

Listening to Your Voice Composition (14)

In study, work and life, we are inevitably exposed to composition, which is a narrative method to express a theme through words. What kind of composition have you seen? The following is a collection of essays on hearing your voice, which I hope can help you.

I am listening. I am listening to the clear and graceful song of birds on the earth; I'm listening, I'm listening to where the free and deep notes of blue whales are in the deep sea; I'm listening. I'm listening to where there is a magnificent movement to nourish the soul in the world

In my spare time, I always like to look at the poetic distance outside the window, and I like to look up at the clear and bright blue sky that is cut into small pieces by the window lattice, which reflects the birds flying freely in the air; I like to look at the blooming flowers on the distant green mountains, and immerse myself in the beautiful mountains and forests I imagined: birds and animals, as free and happy as water drops into the sea, shuttle among the forests as they like. This is Jinggang Mountain, which has always been regarded as the cleanest place in my heart... Every time I come here with a pious heart, the mountains and waters are green, the flowers are burning, birds and animals are everywhere

I heard your joyful singing suddenly burst into your world, and your pleasant singing has been lingering in my mind. In your song, I heard happiness, vitality and hope. It lingers around all the time. The sound of singing has been melodiously drifting away. The budding buds are gorgeous and open; Strong tall trees, desperately stretching branches; And I, accompanied by your singing, greet the dawn with hope; Embrace rain and dew with enthusiasm; Think of sunset with nostalgia; Grasp the snowflakes with your dreams... You carry me with your songs, across towering mountains, across clear streams, across the whole world, take me to touch the clouds, bid farewell to the sunset, and welcome the sunrise

Heard your sad cry, but the happy days didn't last long, but the clouds mercilessly turned the blue sky into a gray one. In the dark, I can't see your figure flying up and down as usual, and can't hear your melodious singing. I was afraid. I searched everywhere for your disappeared song, but still got nothing. I could only hear your sad cry, and I could only hear your heartbroken sobs, one after another, like a thumbtack on my already fragile heart. I feel sorry for you, sad for you. Since then, you have evaporated like the world. No matter where I go, I can't find the happy and joyful sound and shadow, and the endless song in the past

One day after hearing your free laughter, I woke up from my sleep and, as usual, planned to open the curtains to see the already bare woods that mercilessly strangled you. But when I opened the curtains, I saw a bright light. Tall and tall trees stood in the forest, and the lush branches rustled in the warm breeze, The tall and straight crown lifted its head and looked proudly into the distance. Suddenly, the long lost song suddenly sounded from afar, and I saw the sound and shadow I was familiar with leaping, and your free laughter came from my ears

The new grass, the swaying willow branches, call each other, each other ethereal; The lofty mountains and the flowing water blend and set off each other; The elegant white clouds and the deep blue sky blend and complement each other; The bright jade plate and scattered stars are shining and embellishing each other; Free birds, flocks of animals, chasing and playing with each other

Protect wild animals, build beautiful Jinggang Mountain, wish harmony and beauty to last forever, and wish the nightmare to disappear

Listening to Your Voice Composition (15)

I decided to take advantage of the weekend free to return home to see. Sitting by the car window, watching the Yaozhi and gorgeous neon lights go backwards around me, I felt the peace and comfort I had not seen for a long time. There is no more noise in the city, only a cool and quiet cicadas and frogs.

From afar, I saw you sitting on a small wooden chair. It was a stooped back with vicissitudes of life, vaguely lonely. Near, near, finally arrived. When you look at this vehicle coming from afar, you seem to have a little hope and expectation in your eyes, but in a moment, you are drowned in loneliness. At that moment, I seemed to hear your deep sigh. Grandma, I heard your heart calling, roaring and sighing your relatives' names. The invisible sound came into my heart, like a corrosive element, arousing bursts of pain. I want to shout and drive away all your loneliness.

After getting off the bus, I walked straight to you. A little doubt rose in your remote and deep eyes, and turned into joy. You stood up at once, stumbled but quickly came to me, and somewhat incredulously called me: "Nanny, you are back?" Your voice was still so soft and gentle. The voice full of surprises also carries some doubts and surprises that have not yet dissipated. Your voice is so happy that it has changed its tune. It seems to contain countless thoughts and love: "Just come back, just come back..." You repeat, and the wrinkled eyes gradually become crimson. At that moment, I heard loneliness and infinite relief in your voice. However, it seems that there are countless voices roaring.

That afternoon, you used that unique and gentle voice to care about me and ask me about my recent situation. You used that old and slightly dumb voice to remind me of my childhood. In your narration, I saw me when I was young, holding your hand and catching small fish by the river behind the village. I heard you gently remind me that my feet were slippery and safe. Two kinds of voice lines overlap, the voice of slow memory, but also a bit lonely. At o'clock, I want to go back to the city for class. You are reluctant to clap my hand: "Come again next time!" The scattered voice almost made me cry.

On the way back, I looked at your house in the distance under the neon lights of Yaozhi. In the midst of the uproar, I heard your helpless and lonely calls and sighs, and I heard all the empty nesters howling and crying. They were lonely, and they needed love and warmth

Oh, I heard your voice. I will speak for you

Listening to Your Voice Composition (16)

——Title

In my spare time, I always like to look at the poetic distance outside the window, and I like to look up at the clear and bright blue sky that is cut into small pieces by the window lattice, which reflects the birds flying freely in the air; I like to look at the blooming flowers on the distant green mountains, and immerse myself in the beautiful mountains and forests I imagined: birds and animals, as free and happy as water drops into the sea, shuttle among the forests as they wish. This is Jinggang Mountain, which has always been regarded as the cleanest place in my heart... Every time I come here with a pious heart, the mountains and waters are green, the flowers are burning, birds and animals are everywhere

I heard your joyful singing suddenly burst into your world, and your pleasant singing has been lingering in my mind. In your song, I heard happiness, vitality and hope. It lingers around all the time. The sound of singing has been melodiously drifting away. The budding buds are gorgeous and open; Strong tall trees, desperately stretching branches; And I, accompanied by your singing, greet the dawn with hope; Embrace rain and dew with enthusiasm; Think of sunset with nostalgia; Grasp the snowflakes with your dreams... You carry me with your songs, across lofty mountains, across clear streams, across the whole world, take me to touch the clouds, bid farewell to the sunset, and welcome the sunrise

Protect wild animals, build beautiful Jinggang Mountain, wish harmony and beauty to last forever, and wish the nightmare to disappear

Listening to Your Voice Composition (17)

When the father took his mother to the mountain to collect herbs, the huge stones rolled down the mountain. In a hurry, the father completely forgot that his mother could not hear him and shouted at the top of his voice to let her escape, but the mother was indifferent. At the critical moment, the father pushed his mother away, but he was hit by a huge stone

He was angry at his mother's deafness, and even more bitter about his father's death. In the days without a father, my mother always sits on the ridge of the field after busy work, watching the autumn wind turning the golden wheat fields, and immersing herself in her silent world all day long without saying a word. Others always call him "the son of the deaf". His eyes, which are full of sympathy but without discrimination, hurt him deeply. He felt particularly disgusted when he saw his mother only communicate with him by comparison. It is a common thing for him to say evil words to the mother who can't hear when he is slightly dissatisfied. "She can't hear anyway," he always defends himself in this way. Mother just lowered her head. What he didn't see was her hand lifting to wipe away tears.

As the days passed, although he took the initiative to share some of the farm work, he became impassive towards his mother and never looked straight at her. The estrangement from his mother made him depressed, and made him dream of leaving home early, for which he studied hard. Finally, at the age of 18, he was admitted to a key university in the provincial capital. The village head came home and pointed at him and gave his mother a thumbs up. The mother smiled proudly and nodded her head to thank him, but her eyes suddenly darkened when she touched his eyes, her smile solidified and her head hung down timidly, while his heart suddenly felt a trace of intolerance and guilt. On the day of departure, the autumn wind was bleak, and he and his mother looked at each other without saying a word. The bus came bumping through the muddy path. He wanted to stop talking. His figure flashed and he boarded the bus. He looked back secretly and saw his mother's lips moving. What he did not hear was his mother's ambiguous words before he left: "My child, my mother wants to hear your voice." What he did not know was that, Since he was born, his mother has been whispering to herself secretly for 18 years with the memory of his childhood pronunciation

In a word, the wind blows away without trace; In a word, there is no chance to repeat.

For this impoverished family, tuition is undoubtedly a huge sum of money. Although there are villagers to help, everyone is not rich. In order to save travel expenses, he stayed in the provincial capital to work and study every holiday, while his mother worked from morning to night every day to make a living by digging food from the soil. When school began, she always asked someone to bring a pile of crumpled tuition fees. Looking at the banknotes with different denominations, his heart swelled with shame towards his mother with blurred tears. I missed the days when I was not with my mother. "I will work in one year, and then I will make good compensation to my mother." He always comforts himself in this way, and even imagines his mother's surprise when she sees him smiling at her. In the winter of my senior year, my mother fell in the mud field. She saw someone caught wild loach and sold it for a good price. She even soaked in the field for several days in spite of the biting cold. When they found it, they had lost their breath

"My child, I want to hear your voice." A clumsy note was found when I was collecting the relics.

Finally, tears poured down.

Most of his mother lives alone in a silent world, which he has never realized.

But what she didn't know was that once upon a time, he would sneak to the desolate hillside alone and shout loudly "Mother", but what echoed in his ears was only the echo of the empty valley.

What she did not know was that he also wanted to hear his mother's voice and her response.

What she did not know was that he had resistance and expectation to silent maternal love.

He is growing and she is getting old, but this obsession has been stuck.

We all want to hear each other's voices, but it's too late because we don't know how to cherish them.