The storm has arisen again, and this boat we call life is thrashed about in the waves of anger.
The crew mates struggle to find a hold on the ropes, trying to steady the ship and steer it towards calmer waters, but as far as the eye can see, it’s raging, wrathful ocean.
Stranded in this sea of hate, what can we do?
If love is a clear blue sky and a calm wind to sail on, where is it?
If a whirlpool were to come along, in hopes of ceasing the treacherous waves, it would merely worsen the conditions.
Only a wind can blow away the overhanging clouds and rid the air of rain, and calm the waters.
Why fight fire with fire?
Why?
Why can’t we just show compassion?
Willowlark 