Give me an essay "Listen to the Voice of Life", and I want it tomorrow.

The spring breeze exploded and everything was restored. Buds rush to the earth, bamboo shoots climb higher and higher, and flowers are in bud. After a drizzle, something wrapped in a longing for life finally bloomed. In this fresh new world, listening, I can't help but appreciate: "wonderful!" "

After a winter's sleep, the seed in the field couldn't help but want to stretch and yawn, but because of the burying activity of the soil, he wanted to see the world dotted with greenery. He held back that force and filled himself with strength. "Poof-"He let out a short and crisp sound and came out. Green can't help but stop laughing like a child.

The line of sight shifted slightly, and I looked along the trunk. The ugly but hard bark on the weathered trunk shrugged my shoulders and looked carefully into the crack. Look! This is new bark. With the expansion of tree rings, new bark is slowly squeezed out. After getting rid of the last connection with the trunk, the outer bark landed on the soft land with a bang and took root at the root. The new bark is also looking at the "strange" world and is trying to expand outward. He wants to see more than that.

After the spring rain, a small bud on the branch woke up. She felt that the coldness of the branches could not reach her expected vision. Maybe she has a cold. With the faint "A-choo-"sound from the trembling branches, a small green leaf emerged. She looked around excitedly, stretching her curly body and appearing in this world in new green.

This is a noisy city. This towering building has a bright Red Cross. Immediately after delivery, the parturient fell asleep under the urging of anesthetic, and she seemed to feel that the little life in her stomach was already stirring in her sleep. "Wow," the loud voice immediately reminded me of the happy smile on the corners of the mouth of the parturient, although it was in her sleep.

There is a chicken farm far from the hospital. Every time the chick comes out of its shell, it will peck out a small circle very hard. It rested for a while and pecked "Benedict-Benedict" with firm belief. This pecking sound is very heavy, but it is a prelude to the birth of a chicken. "hey." This chicken, which struggled in the eggshell for a long time, finally broke its shell. It hasn't learned to walk yet, but in a warm factory, it closes its eyes and looks at the world with a sweet dream, and begins to take off its eggshell for the first time.

There is a cocoon-forming butterfly pupa hanging on the beam. She is quiet, but she is not calm inside. She has always fantasized that she can fly among the flowers, and only because she was a bug in her last life did she look at the frolicking butterfly in a daze. Every day, when the golden light of the sun shines on the earth, the pattern on the butterfly's unique wings seems to continue the story of her previous life. The butterfly in this pupa fluttered its wings with fantasy and broke free bit by bit. "poop-poop." She successfully drew an arc in the sky, which is the pursuit of life. There is a deep blue light on her wings, very enlightening blue. Butterflies fly to distant flowers with bubbles in their hearts. At this time, the sun quietly plated a beam of golden light on the newborn butterfly, making the unexpected blue light embedded in the dazzling Phnom Penh.

Life is strange and brings joy to people. We are growing up bit by bit, and nature is changing new life year by year. Every life has a symbol of beauty. It sounds to me that they are trying to get a new life and try to climb up. That voice symbolizes the voice of growth, and it is the most harmonious and beautiful melody in the world.

Listen to the rain:

This is probably the last autumn rain. It has been raining for several days in Mao Mao. The drizzle turned into pure blue tears, beating the beautiful image of the autumn sky bit by bit and gently hitting the window lattice, just like a euphemistic pipa playing music. This sleepy season, I'm afraid I won't wake up, and autumn is hazy. Autumn will leave.

The continuous rain outside the window seems to be repeating yesterday's topic and melting a piece of acacia in this autumn sky. Although heavy and dark, it also exudes fragrance and tranquility.

The sound of rain is getting louder and louder with the coolness, as if listening carefully. Listening to the rain, I just feel that the whole world is asleep, especially fresh and quiet. The falling rain, like a thin and soft net, covered the wings of my thoughts.

Scientists often say that listening to the rain is a realm. Throughout the ages, the rain hits the banana, the rain falls the lotus, and the phoenix tree in the autumn rain has a wonderful poetry in the ears of literati. Li Shangyin's Rain to the North, "When you ask the monarch to return, the rain is in Bashan Zhang ..." has always been an eternal quatrain in the hearts of foreign wanderers. In the dark rain of a foreign land, the deep feeling of missing is the endless rain outside this window.

Now the lingering autumn rain outside the window is beating on the phoenix tree. Although it is not raining in Bashan, it is raining in other places. My heart is full of homesickness, tears flooded my eyes and moistened my heart.

When I was a teenager, I didn't understand the rain. I often read in the rain with a book in my hand, and I fell asleep under the guidance of the rain. When I grow up, the rain is still the same, but my mood is different. Whenever it rains, I will put down what I am doing and listen quietly to the softness of the rain, the boldness of the summer rain and the soothing and delicate autumn rain. Especially listening to the rain. A word "listening" can experience an unspeakable beauty and pleasure. I even feel that the rhythmic dripping rain outside the window seems to be my heartbeat and a part of my fresh life. Time passes slowly in this drop of rain. With this rain, I feel a lot of life has become indifferent. Many regrets in the past seem to have become complete in this rain.

Today, I still don't understand the rain, but I still like listening to it. I like "Rain Plum" in Jie Jiang. In the prime of life, the boat is listening to the rain, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the geese are broken. Now listen to the rain monk said that the stars have been on the temples, and there is always no intersection of sadness and joy. The next order, it will be dawn. "

I began to understand that in the storm, after the rain has cleared up, I should do something with my heart ... My mind is like a kite with a broken line, flying freely all over the sky, and the lingering past has brought fragrance and roses.

Let the glory and frustration you once had pass away with the autumn rain, let the rain turn into a poem that can only be read with your heart, immerse yourself in this faint artistic conception, listen with your heart, and feel that life is more indifferent, more natural and quiet, and that kind of beauty is like a sweet glass of wine.

Listening to the rain is really more than just a realm.

If the author wants to be original, he can contact me at QQ: 14286906 15, thank you.