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.
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- X- s2 @4 u% r# w% V1 S$ o3 g 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.
- o" `- ?* I. ?, w
, K+ `3 R% O5 W: C Heaven
0 Y! n( s) Y9 }3 P2 X The pebble is worn smooth
3 h1 z; h  ]/ I8 s Made small over time
! ^! {8 V# }9 B$ b  ?# F A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
3 A  a$ E4 }9 z( i9 }+ _& j+ ]  h4 m But just a very small stone.

4 G7 f5 v5 V1 x2 R6 o6 ? The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
7 ]3 X( p  m2 V; a) z; ~6 V, k' t Its insignificance is transformed
; M; [* q" _; L0 d3 u4 |7 J% K( ~- w Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
, M, ?% Z; K) D0 i' S, x$ v5 j  Y Its signature of concentric ripples
. a9 t$ _: |+ n* \$ q: b4 F Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
  p2 S0 [+ A! s* _4 t5 B. ?! U Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
$ ^; R' o  J" e+ Q$ T By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
! R* Y& r  |  q Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
( {# ~" k5 W( S1 h3 `9 B+ X But ultimately recognizing
# F2 ?* \$ k; y# h+ }- a That who we are meant to be
- a3 N( e5 m- K# F Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

- B2 E$ W, D7 ?* |$ a: s" h% w2 d It is true then:
% I& J: G! O2 T1 u( U( K Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
% J6 U  V  J0 O, y& A that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
) ^: K5 ?6 V+ i, Z; [* D not because of well meaning plans
8 v. _9 J6 v7 w8 G But because of actions.

( `2 e: z( G- c- m, J$ ` Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
! M0 C% t2 `. T+ C. ?4 y Changes the course of the lives
. l* S0 m! Y: v1 ~9 e5 x Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
3 k( M3 s! e* |8 Q6 a; X With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
- v1 V6 A$ t" o2 o& r6 n- w! G, T1 {! Z The world will never be the same.
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9 l6 y5 N3 K% U$ ?# e And then we have heaven …

# ~/ r4 C0 R2 q5 ?1 ` Ross Rosenberg
* Q/ }) ]' ^5 l) K$ J, L 8/18/03