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.

3 t* D. {: i! _ 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.
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2 I8 F9 ^& A; l! }1 U1 e8 g7 S Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
2 a+ x6 F: M* W+ L2 Y Made small over time
% M# C" G* c4 t! r A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
7 N2 j4 J! Z# ~) C! @* Q A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
$ b4 E- g/ A  O/ p4 k& t An accidental offspring of a boulder
( f" a- ~% \1 H4 V1 h But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
' E0 }* ?! j1 G8 z/ _9 w Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
7 q3 O5 c9 r' e Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
3 G& E/ ^# S" z! Q* [/ k+ G# ^ Moving far beyond itself.
) L4 t, l. ?3 U$ a Gently affecting everything in its wake
$ ~3 R4 M8 Y( Z6 V Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

$ U% b8 L& A- q7 k8 z The pebble creates its worth and meaning
, i/ X' ]1 e9 d* b( w1 K By unleashing its unimagined power?
: C/ |: i5 @) m/ R Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
" G2 j' r! @5 g/ M; q Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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0 q" s0 t: ~: B/ y% r$ r Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
) s# N3 y+ W8 P+ z Can never be measured in isolation
! E* ^6 A$ Q7 n0 | on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
* F# h5 J" T% W& X Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
5 C- Z8 \0 ?2 M9 Q3 b7 b6 X that leave unique mark on our world
8 {2 q, c; A! ^; d% J Not because of thoughts
/ j& x: H4 z6 B+ Z: ^ not because of well meaning plans
& N( I2 ~+ F9 p  y; x/ X' a( ]6 ~ But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
9 C* R! d: O$ c8 E No matter how seemingly insignificant
+ X9 x, T. _3 ?$ Z/ ? Changes the course of the lives
8 N! q9 u, y# n$ x+ z4 F Of those we touch.?
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( }: t6 b) C8 k6 a And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
# z+ [" J2 ?9 n" I6 y With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8 t( r- C8 P% S6 h" x, z6 H 8/18/03