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.

2 W- I7 N5 q/ x/ P# q 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.

4 K7 u  Q9 ~+ [& J) _ 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
: `: _+ S6 `" q; U An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
* B  h& {% C* g Is neither understood nor appreciated
; `; Z0 |4 Z. B0 e5 G  w But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
0 X. W) r! X' n2 M/ z9 E Its insignificance is transformed
, s: L% \( Z( g' F: C* i Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
: M: C; T" E0 Y2 L) B; k Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
2 p- i2 J) |$ b' d Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
0 X' Q6 f& W3 P, }  H Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
1 @7 l) S1 |  R& y) d6 G By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
& l7 B) E( l4 A, ^7 q8 ~3 L0 G2 w That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

* y( b! k& m7 N$ x/ W$ \' e It is true then:
Our everlasting future
# j. l$ b# C* _ Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
! L2 W0 o. j' x% e( I+ { Creating ripples
6 s* U4 u8 w- i! z that leave unique mark on our world
8 K! N$ L0 P) T  x7 T6 r6 f+ A8 y& X Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
  v" H% r. |! t Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
1 A* l4 Z! a6 `, N  U Changes the course of the lives
/ O/ Z+ T7 |: X6 ]: { Of those we touch.?
. F" l+ w, T/ N& z6 u2 j  v& [
( T$ B0 x0 |" O7 c% Q7 ^, o And when the icy winds of death
% K# Y# Y$ Y- X* ]. a% o. d* S beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
/ m& s5 U. R: C( E2 O% C9 X because of that one pebble
8 C$ M3 j, a  F- p) I The world will never be the same.
1 v& l$ x5 h: y6 p; R. V
And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
  o9 s! H% O& ~, u) o 8/18/03