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.
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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.

# n. y  F  `5 b/ X 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
, m) G( Y- U' T4 d6 Q1 {8 a An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
9 k# [9 K1 ^( k0 G  y) x& R5 z But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
: O  h6 F1 _1 s4 B  Y# }3 j& a; U Its insignificance is transformed
+ z, d) A' j. |% C5 Q" T Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

* B1 S; T" a; J6 `! ?# Z The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
- h- a" @) i$ m Gently affecting everything in its wake
- |6 ]5 J7 j0 c( ~" \4 P: w Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
3 F& y+ \* F- A; p By unleashing its unimagined power?
/ U) o2 \5 B* s' [0 D, b- i; z" a Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
' g- n( D7 B! q; R2 M2 B( h# Y Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

+ X8 m2 u/ [/ a# H% N8 \ Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
3 B* P- N% R% S But ultimately recognizing
. u7 O; ~$ D# w That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
2 e& ]' ]' G9 y Our everlasting future
9 P; M; P' f3 V  O# J* H% i Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
) n& W- d. @9 B  ~& K, G* U8 Q) n1 V+ } Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

0 }  A3 i& N6 ^, ?0 N8 o Our life's prayers our answered
2 r9 Y2 P  a) `# u8 G' a Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
: h  J; K7 R/ J: I2 x Changes the course of the lives
' Q; z' {5 {% \& c7 z* ?( \ Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
8 ~3 y. }+ B" e6 ~+ P6 n! f' v beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
* K% E9 k0 Y* w5 Y  [7 O' j( R4 S+ g With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
5 G, B2 Z6 ?" m% V5 d: f The world will never be the same.

6 w1 J' Q. q5 t/ _ And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03