Heaven

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Seven years ago I was asked by a friend if I was "religious and if I believed in God?" As a (formerly) practicing agnostic I quickly answered:"no." However, I defended myself by explaining that I lived my life according to universal principals of "right and wrong" (as I understood them). Because I believed that our deeds create a lasting effect on the world, I felt confident in my everlasting future. In other words, I wasn't worried about there being a heaven or not. I told my friend that when I die, I am banking on knowing that my impact on the world will be ever lasting. My "heaven" will ultimately be the creation of the the sum total of all my actions.

: n' h* \/ d) c3 ]% d6 Z$ k5 |  Z5 O I will never forget my friend's response: he looked at me with glassy eyes, and told me how deeply spiritual I was. I didn't see it. It took five more years to see what he meant. Such was the inspiration of the following poem I wrote.

Heaven
: E5 Q( U2 S+ e) Z The pebble is worn smooth
  F, o( K8 f7 c0 Z# i/ r9 B4 N5 m% o Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
, c' d: I1 h7 ^1 [ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
% [4 U' p; E, s7 j But just a very small stone.
" C: Q8 c3 r3 h9 m
8 }! b/ f9 z+ Y8 V5 j The pebble's place in our world
# s; I8 d! V- k5 X* D, u4 L Is neither understood nor appreciated
) _+ l. M# `0 y) X; E6 f But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
# e! a9 f8 m+ a6 {) b5 K" E. k
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
; W  B  L' Z; y; v7 g Its signature of concentric ripples
1 Q" p6 m( Y7 K: ]6 r% h+ i Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
7 C& @2 I) |0 S. c4 c Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

; g, Z( F4 m$ w0 [, r4 V The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
6 d0 l6 M. o+ P( ~  j Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
" x) C- x- T. D: e. p4 R% I Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
  S, K! Z: Y( Z; Z That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
& O3 a+ y5 n5 d# f, _
It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
) F( v' O+ P0 D: s Creating ripples
* o; d# o$ Z6 D6 P/ V8 P4 Y that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
1 g" q+ y0 |  x% {. T But because of actions.

6 j3 E, w3 u/ v- ^. A( k Our life's prayers our answered
. w4 c$ z0 l) d, E, I4 Z Because even the smallest pebble
/ I' n7 M1 O- I- q No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
' _6 ?2 l( Y3 H+ v% i) T& D Of those we touch.?
9 s6 M) F% C- Z4 R0 h$ [) ?
And when the icy winds of death
8 ^' j3 B6 P9 Y& X/ e/ ` beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
1 W" w; `5 _; |7 V2 @: k# J because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
8 J; n. U, V9 V: o" A& }
8 T0 h. `4 W+ P0 X7 H7 G( F: q And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
! E7 {; X( V8 n1 X! Y5 B5 Z% P 8/18/03