Wishing for Worse

I wish I was a boat.

Not literally. I actually enjoy being a person, with a family, living my life day in and day out. But on the inside, I would like to be a boat.

A boat feels no pain. She doesn't feel the icy wind as it thrashes through her tender sails. She does not feel the knife-like rocks stabbed into her belly, nor the grasping intrusion of the barnacles on her hull.

I wish I was strong like that.

A boat is kind. Stepping on a boat is the first leap in an adventure. She takes people on their adventures, watching, waiting, hoping, praying, for her turn. But she must wait for her moment.

I wish I was patient like that.

A boat is dependable. You tie her up and she stays. You turn her left, and she readily obeys. She'll sail where you show her to and bring you back. She is not afraid to trust you.

I wish I was sane like that.

But yet, I am a boat.

Steady breath goes in and out

Like waves against a hull

Nimble fingers to reach and hold

Like the ropes that save lives

Meaningful words about to be spoken

Like full sails are blown into action

I laugh at the boat.

I sorrow for her.

For I have something

she can never achieve.

I have a soul.

A soul. A soul that can laugh, dance, cry, love, hate, sing, run, smile, write, play, hope, dream, pray, sleep, hurt, crack, bleed, flail, want, need, choose, learn, scream, sigh, help, catch, know. A soul can do, while a boat can not. A soul can live, while a boat can not.

Oh, and I can fly. Take that boat!