every breath from your body is a stone
tossed into the smooth surface of a lake
the ripples
a reflection of your effect on those around you
there is no stillness in living
every word and deed is its own stone
even silence
even the decision to do
nothing
inaction is itself an action
your stones
hit the stillness of life and disturb it
creating wave upon wave of
reaction
and the fact you didn’t see the ripples does not
absolve you
from their effects
you see
you are responsible for yourself
always
your careless harm to another with
blunt words or
inattention
is just as heavy as
your instinctive smile and
soft touch
you are a creator and destroyer
of mountains and molehills
for they
too
are made of ripples
and stones
ripples and stones [poem]
