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.

* E9 s4 f4 e! P0 Q+ | 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
# Z' P2 c) u# f5 a% {  B2 e& h7 R The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
, H7 v" P- z9 v% ?1 e2 g5 i# Y An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
+ Q3 v1 B, L2 m
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
( o$ }$ b; {% K, ~/ r5 e But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
( _4 T8 y, I( v2 ` Its insignificance is transformed
- k4 _7 l+ y6 }# s# b Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

+ X; L! W, {7 T0 X: K The instant the pebble kisses the pond
. O& N2 b+ h% T' {: b0 G Its signature of concentric ripples
1 l; y, B7 `! F$ o5 O+ Z Spiral outwards
) T4 ?5 }' }4 Y: u; Z1 n- T" ^ Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
5 F+ B  I0 J" ]) ]% I Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
: V4 `$ ~( }# X/ O% Z; G
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
* W- P3 b7 O; R0 h Into a dueling force of action and reaction
' Q, r0 @; u* ?( l& A% v8 T Creating karmic energy
( c' m) q7 d; W, ~8 c! i1 ] Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

* {( J3 C" L) k3 H5 { Aren't we all pebbles?
' l4 @# C- d8 s% C3 e" W  }0 V Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
. x) V4 f/ f4 l Can never be measured in isolation
- A( ^, B0 Q1 e9 L% `/ S on a path into ourselves.

# d8 q% K8 J  v0 G It is true then:
+ H) ]- {4 Z: Z3 ? Our everlasting future
' s- l2 x- t+ Y7 @! a6 D Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
: v/ q/ h4 s& Y Into the pond of life
% A$ w4 M$ x1 p Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
6 v3 [$ v3 {: y; i% Y, r. z Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
( L4 C. o) i2 Z2 r But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
$ K1 L+ h4 {. t7 M+ B No matter how seemingly insignificant
/ U6 B" Z) K8 w! [ Changes the course of the lives
0 `7 v, S& o, z, B! `9 S Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
0 m6 q: V! o5 u# X4 L7 T1 `( @ beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
& R9 }! R0 ^; {3 w The world will never be the same.
3 W: r4 s# C0 ?4 e: J* a# v) x
And then we have heaven …
( u2 n# j4 G2 |! x, w. t& f
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03