Literacy NarrativesStory of my LightWriting Has a heart of its own, a will that works in accordance with the writer sothat the author can finally give shape and art to the masterpiece. Our life is anempty canvas, the masterpiece is still waiting to be painted, all that is needed arethe brushes, paints and most importantly the heart of the creator. Art issomething that can live longer than the lives of human beings. This is the reasonwhy everybody wants to be remembered in the poems written by ancient artistsand songwriters. When the right time collides with the creator’s heart, a livingspring of imaginations flow through the strokes of the artist giving rise to amarvelous piece eye-catching and adored by everyone.We are all the same inthe creator’s hands, a wet clay ready to be molded into a creative handiwork.While giving shape to the pot, if the potter is not satisfied with his work , he maystart over and we have no right to complain.I am growing as I write, experiencing downfall as I rise and suffering the mostwhen I stand up in my disparities. Like a flower shriveled under the foot, I findmyself at a complete loss of words and expression. All that is left for me is thehope of light that’ll guide me to the path I should follow. Sometimes I feel I amcompletely weighed down by my problems and writing gives me air to vent outmy feelings through strings ofsentences which after traveling the whole worldtakes its place back in my heart.
