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.

Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
- Z; q/ o/ K5 I; Y6 ?& ~3 Z2 @ An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
, w9 I6 f  \8 E. D# n' R! ` But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
. J" s  G2 z+ z: H, d- b) E Its insignificance is transformed
; o5 F* ?9 S5 i/ O, o" C8 \ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
7 w: |$ g+ N; F4 Q  Q, ? Spiral outwards
. v- ]! o5 U% B2 x% z) T1 w Moving far beyond itself.
" I$ G" m7 @  ~" Z0 L- }3 ] Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
  t2 E7 k1 V6 l7 U1 u1 h
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
! @! U- b9 d: _* y% B% n By unleashing its unimagined power?
+ R+ \8 \7 C8 O: J Into a dueling force of action and reaction
# a6 I/ a/ \( @% B: L- n Creating karmic energy
, h; \1 Q' a# o. f4 { Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

2 s( y% Y7 x) G, a* B Aren't we all pebbles?
' ]+ A3 T  r4 {6 |* B/ W7 l Feeling small and insignificant
% |; E% b/ K1 I$ J1 _ But ultimately recognizing
+ ^$ K8 K. T# [- u; X7 r That who we are meant to be
$ P7 @. C! e/ d( R5 _ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

/ Q+ ]; Q( W6 z It is true then:
" `" Y. S3 t9 ~3 B- P: y1 { Our everlasting future
4 E" {$ j0 _8 } Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
  F0 {& T# j& t7 |2 v$ h not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

9 t( l* @+ \2 J6 z( A9 F# }  F Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
& L  J. a% ^3 i& Y9 c& ^/ J* c& J No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
# r# s5 i9 q6 E7 W% U6 K" z- p
And when the icy winds of death
+ @0 o* e6 Q% b3 B6 @  \1 ~7 i7 e beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
9 h" ^8 s& F$ G6 T6 Q because of that one pebble
4 J$ `$ ?3 t( f2 K, P4 U) g7 D The world will never be the same.
+ d+ T. N- A/ w
And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
1 l9 J) ]6 j9 U  c) C 8/18/03