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.

% p! U( c* b1 j. w7 y 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.

+ K3 i0 R$ S- ] Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
3 ?# J, `' L" p! ` Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: u2 o( E! ?. w8 K) y6 p/ R2 o; \ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
: o$ q+ D6 X' T9 T" ~  k An accidental offspring of a boulder
; `5 Q$ V+ O: ^% |  z5 F! [# F But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
2 G4 H+ r. c3 i) F; J Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
( K+ F6 T  v. ~3 A% ^2 g( Q, T/ @1 i Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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& V  A3 S7 g$ v& k. X: q1 G8 @ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
$ d; s  r6 w! I1 _ Spiral outwards
6 H! J% o4 `5 `7 O+ t+ { Moving far beyond itself.
( B9 X( X% o" Q" Z Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
& D. u) v: `, G* l- g Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
1 b& y2 O- ]& @( [7 f0 p Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
, B: W" _8 p& N* Z; ]- ~4 U" Q" w: R That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
6 G/ Q/ |" I1 C( \ Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
" r5 p* Y# y& `: \! C! l( K9 Y Into the pond of life
, G5 T6 N, X3 F1 u2 P* w Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
" m' J1 @/ I* `- P, [6 f, L Not because of thoughts
) s; `' `% @0 {( t3 [ not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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2 e  s* L7 H: T. f  V# T" D2 b Our life's prayers our answered
& _: ]' i7 W& w; T Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
6 r+ l/ \5 \1 r* l beckon our lasting attention
8 Y( C1 |% D3 i  { We will gently leave this life
% |3 r" D* G$ g/ R With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
" l3 M3 ?* h6 ~ The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …
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Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03