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.

$ M" Z" A" j  Q) i) P# ? Heaven
8 @- c" B  s$ [) g The pebble is worn smooth
1 k( @  l; @; v% X Made small over time
! H# h" Q9 S& X" g4 P A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
% Z+ _& d) A8 b# T2 D An accidental offspring of a boulder
, r" r+ i8 Q9 F3 i# B( `3 u8 g But just a very small stone.

/ o/ A, G7 D1 Q' V, G+ m+ j+ t The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
# F- y1 ^# P% j- h! _$ o Its insignificance is transformed
+ f+ D  I  j0 `; S& H9 V Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
, K3 T! @2 C5 Y. N. Y
; B2 a; d6 l) ?1 h; z- S2 J6 G# u The instant the pebble kisses the pond
8 e/ [  [0 l% B" Y! f Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
4 t' B/ S0 U: K& \ Gently affecting everything in its wake
$ H  l) g) r0 e+ V5 L2 P$ |8 l Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
1 |1 Q5 G+ g9 T, C
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
& f+ H. y: Y' b9 x4 i+ o By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

, ]8 n4 w3 T! ?' v0 [ Aren't we all pebbles?
) p3 l6 y* v6 o5 E$ [7 t: m2 Z Feeling small and insignificant
: h# j0 Z# O/ Y1 t8 Z9 h, e( g But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
8 }+ n. w, m% J1 g4 w) K on a path into ourselves.
, c1 \9 Q5 G! G, G& m+ q
9 {6 f; e9 T6 ?) s$ N1 m1 I It is true then:
* n: ]' ^# D) E7 D3 @ Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
# r9 E1 r" M! B. J4 L+ X/ g+ c Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
: D/ h+ e; V/ |# s5 F Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
% N! A' d1 g) d% r: r8 ` Because even the smallest pebble
% U, O# _0 H1 E( {* v No matter how seemingly insignificant
( w3 J" Z. L' }* S. @ Changes the course of the lives
6 ]9 G$ _7 _  o; Z Of those we touch.?

, K/ G% G7 r! U; R# H) i And when the icy winds of death
; S; W( O2 F0 P2 J( q7 T' C: e- E beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
& E8 o7 f" v. k With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
# g0 h' y" [- t6 Y4 N8 n The world will never be the same.

7 ?2 }2 z) ?3 G And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03