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.

* w/ G5 K! {( e; G% v# I. @ 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.
7 c0 G/ S7 ]* R. R3 f% A# \6 E; ?
Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
$ P' k( v7 D& p7 W! J3 Z A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
' {. J4 C1 H: x$ o/ R# z& e0 \  n A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
& H; l% B5 f' {" {4 J& a An accidental offspring of a boulder
) ?# T1 k2 h+ n) s( Q  i7 r But just a very small stone.
3 f% Q1 H$ ^# }
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
* X' k$ o5 f4 I% e7 s- Y+ U5 L7 ] But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
- q% M5 z' Q; `) v* v Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
, m- M5 _& W. a# b  w Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
8 \% H) a) d( h( `" M2 v" ] Gently affecting everything in its wake
5 V. B! e) ], _" U5 w8 s: R1 n Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
1 ^% q! z- M9 m/ S, Z7 ?' q
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
5 A5 o; _! a/ O Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

1 o$ j& G$ v7 y  Z# N. I Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
& K' U7 |; c' Y. Z9 H* h( N8 F That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

3 I- U! V2 Q7 ]% I: o It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
8 M( Y* X0 G5 | Into the pond of life
/ a+ s) t- e: s Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
+ Q5 F- W9 L4 r+ _  }. M5 V Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
8 A4 ?  z5 y$ z* [1 s But because of actions.

5 S2 B) w, c2 W& E1 `. ~* i Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
9 S- Q% {- R9 m/ D# Q- q6 P( o No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
. n, w$ J1 D4 _) F
And when the icy winds of death
0 |3 k8 q" v: m, m) E beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
* d+ @0 d8 L1 O3 ]& m/ m4 P' g The world will never be the same.

- b( x4 X8 W" v/ W! E2 X And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03