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- }$ q+ {; A- u9 ^ 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.
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Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
* G* c& }% V* {  e/ Q8 }, v Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
/ Q% M5 O7 S* @2 Q# d( { A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
8 M' D9 I5 I9 L3 K An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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# s- C0 A3 u- H, L, k7 K) o The pebble's place in our world
6 b# }9 h' Z  E+ T Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
' W  w+ A: `1 ~5 O* ~$ e Its insignificance is transformed
$ Z4 ]6 F& }% u  k" T1 k2 G' T/ ` Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
2 G9 X4 ]5 X7 l  M4 P5 x  n Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
) W$ T. S5 z/ C' @5 j8 J6 w Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
& e- Z9 l0 Q3 z. y3 w# o
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
, L$ S9 X! R+ \8 s% |4 p Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
& D7 M. |' N0 U6 i" q Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
  Y7 Z/ q  w! C7 j; [
* u# {/ Z. m) B, Y! u! W+ S# P Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
  k! ~" i1 s/ }3 D7 ]- \ But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
, X. A; I0 B* y2 Y4 Q2 U on a path into ourselves.
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% H' J% u# u" Z. l- u. P' v& W! Q It is true then:
9 c& A4 @& @/ U6 F# Y% K& @, @  t) C Our everlasting future
0 h; y: b; i" g, o Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
7 }, I, @- y$ @  T4 L Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
0 T, K. ]" b0 {' y2 v( @0 I that leave unique mark on our world
; N3 [3 G5 }9 A, Q' i: S: N! W Not because of thoughts
& {+ W0 G/ E  T/ l6 M0 {' X* s not because of well meaning plans
  E8 J$ I+ C  C3 p! o But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
0 H1 j" F0 `* b% c* `- `1 i) n Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
7 E# A3 n# L7 a1 z- ] beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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3 b5 ]8 Q9 i) o2 R; X3 R% _ And then we have heaven …

' n. N( a* y9 N# [2 a+ j+ n Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03