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.

4 `" _+ Z$ T9 e4 S& T: I+ `) s 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.
, b# o- P/ X0 f6 w0 @# `8 `2 x. T) ?
& K! V  U0 ^1 N' ^& u8 u( z 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
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
  ]1 [7 U, t* |
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
! P" C: M7 T! u; S! |$ u. A0 H But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
- d! i6 W1 J6 ^9 }, j- U Its insignificance is transformed
# y7 X# l" B9 a) \- z/ {6 b) X$ M Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
! j* P% Q8 X2 s& G' [# Z+ e  f6 O Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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8 J& z! n' ~# ]* j; W9 l: C The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
1 h7 S) b; x7 E* H Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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6 R* ?0 a2 w( y9 L: G  T Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
# Z" z2 Q  D$ o& c$ n on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
; S5 w- l+ r& T4 E- @ Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
6 b# F* q. w6 G0 w- m+ P Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
1 g$ L/ S) v: y' g/ o; } Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
. H7 n3 @$ H/ g, w9 C But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
. ^  g6 ]9 H9 a+ H Because even the smallest pebble
+ O" U" r) H0 c, ]* J. j6 X( @ No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
: q. s/ K* v3 o% }9 M4 n Of those we touch.?

& s) P  ~9 A# _% ]& W3 D% D And when the icy winds of death
  a' \- `$ \7 z% R: Q beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
; m3 K* j* m- D/ k8 B5 ]* T1 X" k, o2 { With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

- J" D' d; i5 T$ ]! {. d9 P And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
2 L% |, c/ [' ~ 8/18/03