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.
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6 {6 k- n3 S) A( P/ G7 n- x Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
/ F) r  t8 k, A; F3 t* I A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
. r& K2 [& q" `+ p, ~: e An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

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.

% R) y6 L! S9 t3 F9 X* ] The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
4 O) T# N5 U: x, g Spiral outwards
' a: q$ A+ i# z! }: s Moving far beyond itself.
. l' S/ x( r: S$ G& K( P Gently affecting everything in its wake
2 f- w! S, a3 G" k2 A0 n' s Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

4 T+ h" M0 Y( F5 {- R8 f0 n4 o- H The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
; i" B; p9 X& o( Q' p+ d" i Into a dueling force of action and reaction
/ j5 U! E' O* ]2 j) d" M' ~% B Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
% U4 a3 ~8 E0 J Can never be measured in isolation
( {# h- Z, V* i6 r' e# } on a path into ourselves.

: T# c6 A4 e; l+ o1 Z4 G2 d' @ It is true then:
* u3 j* ~' j7 H5 T, i6 Q% { Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
3 U0 S' G$ a' u1 r9 p Into the pond of life
, ?& N0 ~/ L1 v Creating ripples
* Y. @- M; |+ S- y that leave unique mark on our world
( n+ X" Q) ~- F% E2 t8 o! r8 H Not because of thoughts
# w* {! J% ?! D" j+ w) K0 L not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
' Q; I2 y0 s" M: R+ z- j Of those we touch.?

+ U* T: {+ _. m& T/ C7 z And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
8 `8 {' @- `. \* i We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
1 _6 ]' w( a1 }9 x9 }/ ^ because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

" {' g. u4 @, ~7 k( Y Ross Rosenberg
/ j! D+ ?% W: y& `1 O 8/18/03