Kern Carter's Blog, page 92
October 11, 2021
Walking In The Starlight Alone
Image of Author
As I walked on the grass,
the soft blades gently stroked my sole.
The stars were gleaming,
And the moon was bestowing me; with its brilliant luminosity.
I walked, and then I laid still under the hazy sky.
I could feel the softness of the grass beneath,
and the starry sky above.
Some of my friends adored the beauty of nature with me.
But with each passing moment, they disappeared.
And it was me who was left alone.
In the tranquil silence, I laid still and drew various shapes out of stars.
Realizing the fact that no one was ever mine and no one shall ever be.
Neither am I existent nor is anyone else.
I’m here today and will be somewhere else in my dreams.
How can I tell which dream is true?
This illusion has trapped us well.
Suddenly, my eyes spotted a bush of bougainvillea,
The pinkish flowers and the grace of moonlight together complimented each other.
The slightly bent and twisted branches gave refuge to a thousand insects.
I touched the soft petals and my fingers got entangled in a spider web, which I feared the most.
But then, I realized how I had demolished the flawless home of a creature,
Its efforts and patience went in vain.
It crawled away with fear of being hurt,
explaining to me that our lives are transitory and frail,
and we have filled it with possessions that are even more delicate.
Walking In The Starlight Alone was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
Letting Go and Why NO-ing is Half the Battle
‘No’ is a negative, impolite, little pipsqueak of a word, isn’t it? Composed of merely two letters, yet what it lacks in size, it…
Call For Submissions—What Are Your Insecurities?
OK, you’ve trusted us with so many of your stories, but are you ready to talk about your insecurities?
This is a tough one, so I’ll go first. For the longest time, my biggest insecurity was money. I was 18 when I found out that I would be fathering a baby and didn’t even have a job. For the first 12 years of my daughter’s life (four of those spent in university), money was a problem. And when I say a problem, I mean I had little to no disposable income.
Things eventually changed, but the remnants of those years still linger in my thoughts. I hated that I couldn’t do more for her and even thinking about it right now brings up feelings of heavy guilt.
That’s just the tip of my biggest insecurity. What about you? What makes your heart sink every time you think about it? The thought of no one ever reading my writing was another big one for me. Do you share that insecurity with your creative work?
Same rules still apply:You can submit to this or ANY of our past writing prompts. Just scroll through our previous newsletters. They’ll be marked “Call for Submissions.”If you’re already a writer for CRY, go ahead and submit.If you’re not a writer for CRY but would like to submit to this or any other prompt, let us know and we’ll add you ASAP. Include your profile handle in your message or comment.Be as creative as you want in your submissions. As long as you stick to the topic, we’ll consider it.Just because you submit doesn’t mean we’ll post. If you haven’t heard back from us in three days, consider that a pass.Please reach out if you have any questions at all. If you are new to Medium, here’s how you submit a draft to a publication.
[image error]Call For Submissions—What Are Your Insecurities? was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
