Heaven

khfacdgku

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.
3 e9 ^: F# x) }
% x0 X4 u) h9 t( V% E* m- l 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 k8 D$ G1 v/ l( n! I) t- n 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% B0 T$ A3 @$ x" B$ Y  ` An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
0 O% v2 V8 w" r( R9 j4 J
The pebble's place in our world
+ G" o, Q. i) _0 d3 M- G" ? Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
# P- f) j1 `! Q$ B. x  N3 S Its signature of concentric ripples
3 T: C' r5 o& c" v2 Q Spiral outwards
$ Z: A8 \2 a" j! K Moving far beyond itself.
5 ]3 D3 h9 J1 J% _  b Gently affecting everything in its wake
5 F8 u4 @2 a; i5 N' n* H" { Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
7 `% g+ O7 P% S4 [: a) D
; k" D" O9 v- o8 [# _: Y. Q The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
$ o3 O7 R; K( t, F0 ] Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
2 E8 ?2 U/ Q+ X) K$ K' } Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
3 c& C6 {. y% v; z
Aren't we all pebbles?
8 u$ |# K! f+ b- y8 a' Q  s Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
7 f6 ]4 Q( T7 m9 P8 ~( a on a path into ourselves.
/ Y! J$ q7 o2 ~1 J1 p
It is true then:
% O; r) h9 ^9 o, g7 }; k/ d& k5 O$ X Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
; T4 j0 Y3 s( u Not because of thoughts
, ?# p/ ^6 j$ q; { not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

- j; r$ Y8 ^5 i Our life's prayers our answered
0 W- h) g# Y+ a$ x2 m# p Because even the smallest pebble
% v3 j* ^  L, \ No matter how seemingly insignificant
8 M. J" |) F/ B, X2 t, t Changes the course of the lives
. @1 q. K4 D/ G% R& F1 j Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
2 a) _$ z, V7 U0 G 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.
0 Y5 E  U# V* W$ f9 i4 [6 v
And then we have heaven …
( S6 r8 u9 e$ {3 y! S
# g( d& G6 K( C$ A5 p2 Q) ^ Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03