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.

8 J( i, u8 ]5 X! V. I Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
3 h1 V% W; E- U( E2 C2 q' F A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
* T0 E8 R4 T* x2 q1 Q$ `! h2 n. j/ c But just a very small stone.
6 E/ B) D( U3 E
# M* N# |# I3 n The pebble's place in our world
$ ]% p) s7 E& V6 ^' \ Is neither understood nor appreciated
' J8 m# D9 t: D But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
9 h. s8 q% x) Q0 { Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

5 h3 d: X4 z) K$ d1 e The instant the pebble kisses the pond
- F2 C- Z6 P' |- f3 E# K Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
( {) _8 Y- {' u2 G" E Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
2 q/ N& N' b$ p6 D1 r By unleashing its unimagined power?
7 j- ^9 n' l$ c" @3 M0 y8 T6 Z: ^( W2 L Into a dueling force of action and reaction
3 W9 \' q; `8 ^1 g Creating karmic energy
  P  R! ^$ A2 x+ g/ q& p8 i7 k+ K Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
1 T- b& e6 n# `) g  S; a' W% p
Aren't we all pebbles?
+ _, I; z& O& B! p Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
8 f  e# Q0 y1 O5 n5 P* r( v8 w% e That who we are meant to be
& }7 z) p0 G, a* s( ?9 ^ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
' v& G  L! `9 r0 n  S7 j0 i
It is true then:
+ d+ N+ {6 N9 ^, u& ]: m7 |# v+ s, W Our everlasting future
% A7 D# Q4 o6 G; Z# g Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
% v2 O8 H0 }" V1 B% @( D: V. i9 [ Creating ripples
- `, P1 n& P' Y1 G  n" n' m0 t that leave unique mark on our world
) S% D+ Q+ S+ y: n2 w Not because of thoughts
) O* M- `" J5 \0 J not because of well meaning plans
# i1 O: n, Z, P5 Q8 G" b1 o& J1 c% n But because of actions.
8 e) S1 L; A! R# H
' H5 ]( ~& H" E5 {- p- L* o. U Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
! G' _# g: G' c0 B6 S3 A% Z+ [0 } No matter how seemingly insignificant
& Z+ Y4 `0 ]: ^. b+ ~ Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
& B8 I* o8 o4 m# @6 Y" Y8 l3 ?. }; I
0 X! {5 d6 q: j. G6 d! @% Q/ ` And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
# M0 ?: d. j# J9 @ We will gently leave this life
7 l' q% A1 q! V* Q With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
7 a, J1 D1 a' \4 A( _ The world will never be the same.

( m" P* |+ i# b4 q( g And then we have heaven …
: B1 Y% \, h% \. I; D0 F/ K
Ross Rosenberg
) r, V. ?5 t; S4 e4 b 8/18/03