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.

  C: z& M/ L& l) i+ u+ p' }6 n 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.

! _. g, f+ X6 f+ [: W" L! b' U& x Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
* P: Y* G8 K, V Made small over time
) F0 G3 P) b! A$ J7 t A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
$ G. u- a/ I% Z4 k3 ^  Z9 H An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

; J- T! }3 v/ ^6 ?' V- G The pebble's place in our world
% T0 K1 V; u; Y8 ], w6 r4 l Is neither understood nor appreciated
; Q  v. b& G) ?% j8 H9 ~. j But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
# C. W2 P5 o' U$ W- n% n# D Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

2 K' s( p$ p. f0 H, f# l' a/ S The instant the pebble kisses the pond
6 r/ ~6 L$ n# [- Q Its signature of concentric ripples
: b* W* P8 ]6 j3 s1 V& G Spiral outwards
* w! \4 M5 c. i/ X3 y7 i5 y- b Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
' t. h4 p3 r; J/ s
) Z% k# D* |; L The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
- v0 G' H+ I- A Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
5 v9 X" ]& H, H
- Z' A- r* ^6 [" N Aren't we all pebbles?
: i' V) V/ O5 Y8 ` Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
8 {6 m# W$ H  o; @, y+ c% @ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
5 C0 u2 {1 H8 d7 Z. p; T on a path into ourselves.
5 B9 |2 t7 m/ Q+ f% d0 A, j6 o
* A/ I$ t# V6 a- n* S It is true then:
/ m5 d0 w2 h- P, k Our everlasting future
: c2 K) q) v7 Z) y" ?% ~5 U$ E% \4 Z Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
" B' Z' N) Y5 q& W' t9 ^# F2 X Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
+ @. C* |% n4 w, ?" ?6 p1 a& m5 W Not because of thoughts
- Z( |# V4 q% J3 h+ U+ q not because of well meaning plans
) s8 j7 A+ M/ g4 L" P8 h But because of actions.

" b  |* d6 ?: r$ H$ v Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
2 g* O5 U+ S* l* K Changes the course of the lives
  a. W# A8 x- Y5 B( z Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
" t3 X* u) q) f. a  n* k2 S# k3 r: L because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
0 l: s7 U7 d7 K- y
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03