The Ripple Effect

The Ripple Effect
Why do I cast a stone out on the lake?

I always carefully choose just the right one.
I lay it in the palm of my hand, feeling it for imperfections and testing it for smoothness.
Selecting the perfect stone is important because I am in the stone.
My choice in projectile is as surely a reflection of myself as the face looking at me, just beyond the surface.
I am in the stone.

I pause before I throw, and savor the moment.
Knowing full well that by destroying the past, I am creating the future.
Reveling in the severity of the decision I have no choice in.
All that's left to do is throw.
I see it is the only 'option' I have.

We watch in awed stupor at the ripples I've started.
I like to know that things will play out differently.
You tell me I've upset the odd surface skimmer or two; you wouldn't notice, but you are in the lake.
Chaos is not my motivation for anything.
I have a passion for being causality, but this is not my story
You are in the lake.

It doesn't matter if the stone is noticed.
Invariably, it will sink to the bottom and be forgotten.
What matters is thousands of connections are made, changing your very essence until you no longer recognize your face in the water, smiling back at you.
We are all just small parts of the ripple.

Why do I cast a stone out on the lake?

I wrote my name on every single one.
I hope one day someone on the bottom swims to where I stand on the shore.
She placed her hand in mine, and left something behind.
Just before disappearing, she turned to me and smiled.
I felt the familiar weight of the stone and saw my name, faded and worn, but still alive.
She was in the lake.

I turned the stone over and saw she had placed her name there.
I felt only the warmth she left in her wake.
I cannot call her back; she has already gone.
It doesn't matter though, I was her catalyst. I helped tell her story.
I was in the stone.