云顶山圣泉散记散文

“圣泉”二字，镶嵌在半山腰的巨石之上，仰视，颇有仙泉飞溅而出之势，细看又若有若无。

藏于叠翠之间，隐于暮色之中，散发出些许的褝意，竟与云顶山的晨钟暮鼓不谋而合，有着异曲同工之妙！

难怪山上卖沙参老人一个劲地告诉我们，圣泉流的是意境，有既是没有，没有既是有，只要心诚，哪儿都是流泉飞瀑！

古人曾云景秀于山水，文字为其魂魄，老人的话，看似粗浅，却算得上是云顶山上最美的文字。

尽管听得似是而非，甚至是云遮雾绕，但我却能从那些知其所云的话语里，掂量出了云顶山厚重的历史人文！

看山畏山，看水敬水，到了圣泉，油乎乎生了对生命的敬畏之情。

当地人还说，用圣泉浇灌过的沙参，营养价值特别高，不用炖不必煮，累了疲了，嚼几口就恢复了元气。

有一段时间，很多种植沙参的外地人，带着各种不服，前来挑战云顶山沙参，最后都甘拜下风，一方水土养育了一方人，圣泉浇灌出的沙参，有很多神奇的地方，连科学都难以解释清楚！

看山看水，其实看的是人文，人文才是最好的风景。

从云顶山拾级而下，千年的青石梯空空作响，近乎四十度的倾斜，总有一脚踩空的虚无感觉，一瞥“圣泉”二字，有若一轮半月悬空照我还的模样，即使心情再怎么慌乱，也开始从容淡定起来！

倚残破的古城墙，远望玉水如带的金堂峡，别有一番高处不胜寒的孤独。

云顶山的高已不能仰止，金堂峡的低已不够俯首，圣泉的清澈，却让我思量了好久，究竟是金堂县得名于金堂峡，还是金堂峡得名于金堂县？这样风马牛不相及的问题，想想也只有我这样奇葩的人才问得出来，但愿不要因此煞了好的风景！

上山不易，下山也不易，疲惫时，小憩一下，嚼一口云顶山沙参，要是能上喝一口圣泉的水，该是多么的写意啊！

同行的一位大姐说，几十年前，圣泉的水满满荡荡，山民们还经常用来浇灌菜园，自从山上的一位大师圆寂后，圣泉的水一下子枯竭了，数年后，又才开始时断时续地出现，村民觉得非常神奇，向庙里的和尚请教，和尚说，泉遇有缘人，不是每个人都能喝上圣泉的水。

大姐的话，打消了我一品圣泉的念头，有缘与无缘，其实就是一念之间的距离，人世的喧嚣，又怎么敌得过圣泉的宁静，一个不远的传说，又给云顶山添了几抹神秘的色彩！

仰视“圣泉”二字，已经精疲力竭的我，竟如打了鸡血一般兴奋起来，硬生生地对那个镌逸的“泉”字着了迷。

可望而不可及的泉水，总是牵扯着我尘世的神经。

我暗自猜度那一汪“圣泉”，是无声细流的泉眼，还是叮咚的流泉？也许是清冽甘纯的一汪碧泉吧。

“圣”者至上，或许是因为云顶山上一段荡气回肠的抗元故事，我早已对镌ibly in the rock’s stone, there’s a river named “the spring of water”， which flows from the mountain to the valley.

“The spring of water,” the river begins at its mouth on a rocky slope and descends gently through valleys, finally merging with the valley beneath it.

As for the landscape beyond the spring, it is surrounded by hills that rise up against it in a serpentine pattern, leaving the ground below it smooth and soft.

The spring itself, however, seems to flow from its mouth without a care in the world.

At this moment, my heart swelled as much as possible.

I am now so enticed by the word “the spring of water” that I cannot let go of its magic and allure.

As for those who are not, nor will ever be their opposites, it is a measure of our distance.

Even though we walk through this world and experience the good times and bad times with such ease, yet somehow, the good ones feel like something missing and missing is alluring.

In that moment, I find myself lost in an endless maze of stones, rocks, and paths, each step leading me closer to nothing or further from it.

But here’s what I found: a gentle stream known as “The Spring of Water” that weaves its way through the land below, even through hilly terrains.

Its flow is slow but steady, offering a quiet beauty for those who pause and reflect.

It reminds me of something familiar to my father; he used to walk through this same landscape every day, always looking at it with the same sense of wonder that I do.

I imagine him as walking beside me today, his eyes reflecting the gentle currents beneath his feet.

As he walks past “The Spring of Water,” he sees a river flowing by, its course smooth and steady, leaving no traces but the current itself.

For him, it is just another thing to walk along, another reason to move forward.

I find myself walking side by side with him today, his legs a little more worn than mine, yet I’m still able to follow through on my path.

It’s all too easy for me to get lost in this world that so many paths lead into and out of.

But at least I can keep going forward without getting stuck, even though it is a difficult task.

When I reach the end of my walk today, the landscape around me seems slightly different from before, with new terrain and different views emerging.

It’s like stepping through another dimension or another layer of time, but somehow, everything remains familiar because it still represents something in common with what I experienced earlier.

I think about how this world is shaped by its history, how the stories we tell are passed down from one generation to the next, and how each person leaves a unique mark on the landscape below them.

I also wonder about the people who live here—whether they too have their own stories, tales, and experiences in the land that surrounds them.

As I continue to explore this world, I keep seeing things that feel familiar but somehow different because they are part of an ever-shifting tapestry of history and mystery.

I think about how much time has passed since I began walking through “The Spring of Water,” how much more will come, how much the same landscape will change with each passing day.

But for me, it’s just another piece in the puzzle that helps bring this world together.

I take a step back and look at myself again today, but I see nothing to do with what I’ve seen before.

Instead, I find myself walking through this world anew, with new eyes and a new perspective, and the same sense of wonder as before.

As I continue, it feels like moving through another dimension or layer, something that only allows me to connect more deeply with the world around me and the people who live in it.

I keep thinking about how beautiful this land is, how it represents so much to both the natural forces at play and the human stories that have shaped it over time.

And yet, despite all of this beauty, there’s still something familiar about “The Spring of Water,” and its flow, even as it moves through such a vast landscape.

I also think about the people who live here—whether they too are living in a world where things change but there’s always something familiar.

As I continue to explore, I see that each step I take is part of a journey that takes me further and further into the same land that has always felt so close.

I don’t know what to expect next, but as long as I’m walking through this world with my eyes open and my hearts full, it feels like I’m finding something truly meaningful in all that surrounds me.

In the end, even though I may never see the same landscape again, I keep seeing “The Spring of Water” anew, always offering a glimpse into the beauty of the land it lives in.