I’ve been thinking a lot lately about probability.

What is the probability that two brothers decided to go textless?
What is the probability that a little girl developed cancer?
What is the probability that millions were moved by her story?

What is the probability that I decided to join a board game club?
What is the probability that I decided to go on my phone one morning
instead of paying attention to class?

What is the probability that I would be the first to respond to a Reddit post?
What is the probability that I would be brave enough to start a server?
What is the probability that you logged onto Reddit?

What is the probability that you saw my post?
What is the probability that we met?
What is the probability of all these things happening together?

I think you’re the reason I’m starting to believe in God.

I think us finding each other was a miracle.

It’s a miracle that with every branch on every timeline,
we happened to climb onto this one.
It’s a miracle that we get to exist in the same lifetime.

Think about it, one little changed decision,
and we never would have found each other.
The world is full of dominos,
and every single one had to fall into place perfectly.

Look at all the little ways the world fell into place perfectly to let us exist together.

Tell me how you couldn’t believe in miracles.

The world is a great whirling place.
The wind is always moving,
Jets streams, high and low pressure,
Hurricanes and tornadoes and sweet-smelling,
Gentle afternoon breezes accompanied by sweet iced tea and
A smooth, southern belle accent.

It’s all a reaction, a string of effects that affect another
Effect.
You sneeze, you end world hunger.
You cough, you **** a man in France with a
.22 that you stole from your mom.

The Butterfly Effect
An interesting movie, that one
Though the only scene I’ve ever seen
Was Ashton Kutcher waking up and somehow having
Spent the night with his boyhood crush as an adult
In her college dorm.
(Did I imagine that?
Who knows.)

Regardless: I’m curious
What each of my heartbeats does to the economy of Taiwan.
What the smell of my shampoo does to the eruption of a volcano in Hawaii.
What the cut of my dress does to the graying hair on an old man living
In a flat in central London.
Excuse me, I meant greying.

It’s also funny: what does one random smile from me
Do to a stranger for the rest of the day?
What does my stumble up the stairs
Do to a Spanish teacher as they come back from their lunch break?

If we’re all connected, then shouldn’t everything we do determine something else?
And isn’t everything we do determined by something else?
So was everything determined by one singular action at the very beginning?
Can there be an origin action without an action to originate that, and one to originate that, and-
Well, I’ve heard that’s God: he’s the hand that tipped the first domino,
The only thing in existence that defies all science and reason;
Whether that’s true or not is for a different day
With a different girl with a decent amount of sleep.

die.
dying.
died.


cry.
crying.
cried.


lie.
lying.
lied.

No matter what,
From this point on,
I must endure,
This pain called love,
For therein,
Lies your future.

No matter what,
Every moment,
I must thole,
This misery called life,
For therein,
Lies your happiness.

The farther you are away from me,
The more I will become a distant memory,
A catalyst,
This distance will be,
To help you forget me,
For it is the stepping stone,
To take you out of realization,
That I am truly gone.

No memory should include me,
For a butterfly effect there should be,
To allow you to unlearn,
Everything about us,
So, you can finally get to make do,
As you wished to be,
For your life,
And, the future of your love,
With what you always wanted to see.

Take this flat, round, stone
I told my son, and daughter too
Throw it hard, spinning it
Across the stilled pond
Count your big splashes
Watch the ripples grow

First stones they threw
Only singular sets of ripples
Then two, then three, then more
Eventually, their stones, with mine
Easily reached the other shore
Splashes, into ripples galore

Ripples formed by casted rocks
Have they lasting print upon
Hearts of those I've loved
Standing now on faraway shores
Gleefully leaping, dancing, tossing
Skipping stones hid in their pockets

Are my stones, living on in ripples
Marked indelible in memories
Cast in mind's marble and stone
A forever legacy or merely
A dimly lit fading thought
In minds and hearts forlorn

Once, when I was young
I knew, I could ripple the world
Now, I only hope a weary rest  
To lay burden upon the shore
Enfeebled arm, for slinging stones
Pond's winter death, comes nigh

A bit of time left, of sweet life
To cast a few more stones
Boulders, to toss into the river
Giving the biggest splash
Heavy to lift, except with help
From other believers in ripples

©  2017 Jim Davis