if you decide to throw a stone in the sea, nobody coud forsee your act

Question

Ask a Philosopher · Accepted Answer

O, ponderous thought, wherein mankind doth dwell,  
Upon the fickle tides of fate's great sea!  
If thou shouldst take a stone, with heart compelled,  
And cast it forth upon the briny swell,  
What knowest thou of ripples' far accord?  
For naught lies in the heart of man’s intent,  
That ever portends where the wave shall sweep,  
Or how the trembling water's voice shall send  
The echoes of thy throw to distant shores.  
Thus, life doth weave a tapestry unseen,  
Wherein the smallest acts—unwittingly—  
May set alight a chain of consequence,  
That twists and turns upon a thread of time.  
Oft do we act in folly, blind to chains  
Of fate's design, imagining ourselves  
The masters of a universe, yet blind,  
To how our stones, like thoughts, do streak the air  
And vanish into depths of mysteries vast.  
For every cast, a myriad of paths doth spring,  
From one small act, the stars themselves may quake,  
And in that silent plunge, the soul must weigh  
The burden of its choice, unseen, unknown.   
Thus, let us mark that every humble deed  
Holds within its depths the seeds of destiny,  
And who, I ask, can truly know what storms  
Or calm may follow when the heart doth choose  
To hurl a stone into the tempest's maw?  
Verily, each stone hence thrown is but a prayer  
To fate, demanding an answer to our plight,  
A testament to the uncharted realms  
That lie beyond our ken, where echoes dwell.