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.

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.
4 }+ f; c3 N) o0 V7 Y
( H7 u  E% U  y" F. H$ d( g Heaven
  G0 x# z  G0 V' e; |: u6 C The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
: T" V2 ]% O2 I. W) P& f
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
# u9 O3 }7 g" H2 B$ |2 | Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

4 X- B8 w, g1 b! |5 T6 ^/ W7 I; u9 n- L, E The instant the pebble kisses the pond
% ?: A/ b* v! e, d4 [$ L3 y  \+ ~ Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
' Y5 f4 j3 e2 S6 V3 ` Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
0 V% z4 W4 b  l- g4 T Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

4 y0 D8 q$ ?1 m/ x/ C% E& [ Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
( e1 E3 I% w& |: k8 O& U: f" D! _& V But ultimately recognizing
) @& Q1 e7 z/ |: J! { That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
& V) J4 R1 p/ m! p on a path into ourselves.

' P' }' z6 f" X: W  b9 b It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
4 ^& P7 T5 c" G1 }* T3 B Into the pond of life
. U( T6 W$ v! p# L" z Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
5 q* e" U1 p( Q0 Z Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
/ A8 s; B8 G2 L" I* `
Our life's prayers our answered
3 D, w$ p, }9 v5 s( ]# e Because even the smallest pebble
% m+ e8 F! f* H- d! w No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
+ W2 u6 q" u- ^3 u beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
. R2 P& k0 Z+ f* B  K3 \8 W4 ` The world will never be the same.
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; F5 G) B/ O: \5 r  \8 Y( K0 o And then we have heaven …

0 }8 w4 C' n8 S Ross Rosenberg
0 ]1 f/ M. b6 v5 o' ^$ u 8/18/03