By: Esther Kohl
I’m a weather-beaten boat bobbing along in the storm.
There’s no shore, no island, no dry land as far as the eye can see.
Just a turbulent sea of gray and an angry sky staring down with vengeance.
Why am I still trying to patch the holes?
Why have I not yet thrust the useless oars overboard?
Why have I not succumbed to the waves?
Why have I not stopped rowing, stopped trying to stay afloat in this journey of futility?
Perhaps because the boat holds people that I love.
