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
' \/ Q; R9 V* r) n2 c+ F The pebble is worn smooth
+ [0 O5 a  I9 ?# t Made small over time
" r/ h, B2 f% f( y A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
% M2 X& c3 x; L1 e* l- j- g An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
* r6 g# W9 g8 m, @8 c" F, e
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
+ q- @7 F* h& a9 D4 |+ z8 ~0 T7 q But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
# Q3 m6 E* H& _1 F! P Its insignificance is transformed
( x  {2 G4 k! c7 s9 \, \4 S Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
4 J$ h) c) u, j7 K0 D' v0 R
( l" n7 m: M5 O1 e1 ]! M7 ~ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
6 G) k2 E6 \7 M# I Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

( [  G" B0 [; q/ n/ Y The pebble creates its worth and meaning
4 K- N. V3 ]( s9 G% h/ j. Q5 K/ J5 d By unleashing its unimagined power?
4 R! K, N# F6 }0 b* f  S- N1 x; \) N Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
# M" {7 x" ^. r) n Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
8 M6 s- l. _8 Y( w; K' I
4 t  t5 X" a7 ?$ C Aren't we all pebbles?
2 k; ~8 n' I6 M, } Feeling small and insignificant
% n1 k/ y7 a5 W# I; w/ k- r But ultimately recognizing
% G2 o& O' O/ U( y: O) q: g That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
4 a+ y3 D& M/ E" i. W Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
6 G7 |: y& p  \# m, T Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
" q1 D* U3 R* e" ~4 D+ ` But because of actions.
# J1 V6 f% e4 [
' W* v' N7 {( b1 t( E Our life's prayers our answered
  [+ R$ K6 b4 K* L$ C+ [/ R Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
4 T) `1 _& |7 S1 H5 b! f: i Changes the course of the lives
9 P, V) Q( Q0 m Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
6 B1 q4 J' I, d We will gently leave this life
/ H2 O- d! v) U" ?- c& y4 m& ?1 t% Z1 D With the knowledge that
) t; u( \3 [) \. a. T/ {. j because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
% I6 D& H* p# K" T
And then we have heaven …
$ ]7 j8 m$ V) @* n5 C
Ross Rosenberg
4 v; o7 e$ o7 T 8/18/03