Lagerstroemia covered in purple color of time

On the way back to the street this season, the purple flowers have begun to bloom in elegant clusters. Perhaps the flowers are gently responding to the call of the season, so they have not missed their appointment. The dreamy purple color in the middle of the shimmering sunny sky seems to gently hold on to the melancholy gazes. The purple flowers silently cover the way back with gentle purple bands, carrying a lyrical, genuine beauty, gentle like a girl's dream. Scattered flowers fall past the shape of memories, I sway and nestle in my own private emptiness...

Illustration: LE DUY

Summer seems to have just begun to slowly climb the steps of time. I stopped by a small, shabby roadside shop, sitting quietly listening to the stirrings of the changing seasons on the street. The heart-wrenching sunshine and wind of spring have receded, and I realize the wings of summer have just tilted and landed from the enchanting blue sky.

At the sidewalk cafe where we had just stopped, the purple flowers were blooming in the summer sunshine. Each handful of sunlight pouring down made people want to find shade and quietly watch life go by. As if realizing the many changes of the seasons, the old man with white hair and beard in the corner of the cafe was far away, pondering for a long time. Outside, the purple flowers quietly dropped their purple petals onto the dusty roof, then scattered on the old bricks worn by footsteps.

This season, the winds are like a wandering singer, drifting along the streets of the city. Each fluttering Lagerstroemia petal touches the fingers, smelling an old scent, evoking familiar feelings. Memories are like firewood stacked on top of each other, and the purple color of the Lagerstroemia seems to gently kindle a fire, igniting a loving flame that burns into nostalgia. The flowers passionately bloom, spreading purple across the vast sky where many birds freely fly through the wind, making the dazzling, blazing summer slightly lighter.

Each blooming season, the white-shirted life awakens in us once more, like a cool rain that passes by, soothing our secret thoughts, our unfinished business. We have gone through a shy youth, borrowing the purple color of the Lagerstroemia to speak for our hearts. Then, at times, amidst the stream of people passing by, we wonder, where has the girl who once pressed the Lagerstroemia petals into her student notebook and carefully wrote down her memories gone?

Standing under the purple flower canopy, we realize that all four seasons seem to keep for themselves the purple color of fragile flowers. For example, now the summer has just come, and we stop by a porch, absentmindedly picking up each purple flower petal, cherishing a distant nostalgia. The blazing summer also has hills filled with the purple color of sim flowers, so that many children growing up still yearn for the simple dream left behind in the land of trees and grass. Then, when autumn comes, the image of gentle purple aster petals anchors in people's hearts, each delicate flower is like a complete poem full of nostalgia. In the middle of the winter, the wind is so cold, the purple water hyacinth rafts choke on so many wandering feelings. When the gentle footsteps of spring pass by the house, the purple petals of winter sadness fall on the country lane, making the eyes of those returning suddenly tear up...

Those are the deep purple colors, not sentimental, but deeply filled with loyalty. The purple colors have silently kept many vows, whether fulfilled or forever separated, in the midst of the years of human life like a deep flowing river. And then the invisible time also becomes imbued with an endless purple color, as in the lines of the poet Doan Phu Tu: "The scent of time is clear. The color of time is purple."

The days and months follow one another. I pass through the summer path, the purple Lagerstroemia flowers float in the distant sky, filling the emptiness deep in my soul. My heart is like a small bell, ringing passionately, echoing the sound of nostalgia, calling me back to my old loves...

Tran Van Thien

Source: https://baoquangtri.vn/bang-lang-phu-tim-mau-thoi-gian-193382.htm