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.

) [3 E9 C9 T8 c6 y% _$ R% `. @) J Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
% v/ t/ {3 h/ ~ Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
; _0 [' F! ]. L. i' G8 D A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
  r+ N4 F, b2 r3 E* K3 S% E" s An accidental offspring of a boulder
4 C7 i' p4 ~3 q  r But just a very small stone.
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2 W. m" k( p' Q  `( T The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
1 f# k  S" v5 M0 c- v- N, s( D Spiral outwards
" f, W0 [3 Y& P! q$ p Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
% I/ z3 p- B  w( t; v- n Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
$ c; a; |0 V. ]9 P+ s$ y  |# ^8 |
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
1 m! `  z* X2 z) y5 C By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
- L. r2 }' m, Z. A2 m! I6 d; _ Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
! C! w3 |1 s  S1 \, O& J
Aren't we all pebbles?
3 D9 V+ L; A$ S# u8 q: i+ @ Feeling small and insignificant
* G- J8 F3 D. f4 `- r8 p But ultimately recognizing
1 Y8 `' {" Y6 k+ `0 H/ a; G That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
/ ^, T; N4 k# T6 w  {2 K& A
+ q9 a' z1 G' }6 `6 N It is true then:
Our everlasting future
6 A& u; ~9 S* L$ i% Q Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
1 c( s* c1 R; ^& z6 m# e$ f: C Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
3 T% d# I, c+ S! z But because of actions.
2 e8 p& A% _2 g2 a
9 S( H  J6 U, G' k Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
* Q/ d1 {1 M$ U6 [& _& | Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
2 N( y$ `  Z1 C6 [$ m With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
! e- r( E4 m, R5 c% P+ G5 p The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

4 y  f3 O2 N5 c/ T* e) z; w Ross Rosenberg
/ j+ p0 w% u& z0 D, ?  f 8/18/03