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.

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.

* F! n( T1 Y4 E The pebble's place in our world
$ P" b% O" _4 b. `  ~  ? Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

0 a! y: Z4 Z' Z# c5 p1 L The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
' d9 Q) y/ P' Y3 Z8 a Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
; W% \3 A# e, D! t) P1 S Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
6 ]+ |  {4 a# m  y# N8 \# k By unleashing its unimagined power?
' s1 Z. E* C6 m: v/ z0 @8 N Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

4 O4 c, C" G9 E6 j2 Y' d; P+ b; e8 O Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
' Z% p* ]1 M" V8 G) v/ ^1 Q But ultimately recognizing
& t+ ^# o  w6 t% B That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
7 X; |' N9 Z7 n" Q2 I) i9 m/ y Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
8 V& U% a5 P! Y+ h0 n Into the pond of life
7 F) L1 n8 |+ R. p. d6 a  P Creating ripples
2 w! I6 m: B$ F/ i% F: G that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
# K! |/ a7 L  W) n* D* X- L not because of well meaning plans
( V6 c" e1 @5 W1 _. ?! u But because of actions.
# i+ N! U7 U& Y3 B6 K& M& T
( W3 ~& @. y- l Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
9 t. ^, F2 l/ R! M( C* _; I No matter how seemingly insignificant
  T, q& Q: V2 N( P! i/ f Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
2 J* D% ?  e& ?( J. {. c% u/ n
" M) q7 H% t: ]* `7 X  o4 A And when the icy winds of death
9 E2 E. [) h" O4 d' x/ R beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
2 q7 g; m+ N4 f9 i& d- ~ With the knowledge that
: T; O( X: t) T0 H: b, U* l$ j1 V. N because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

/ B, R' n  ~( I% O And then we have heaven …

2 B0 @$ E) ^( J- I+ X$ L- R3 X Ross Rosenberg
  A5 w+ v* \0 f, F( I9 C 8/18/03