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.
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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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9 i% \5 q5 b6 l Heaven
- I. t( E) a) F The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
2 V- l" X' R& [: v4 Q7 S An accidental offspring of a boulder
: p: `. }* K: q" N' ]% r7 S+ w But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
- e) J# R- W  L7 k( E% Q+ J+ j Is neither understood nor appreciated
5 z$ i: C& k& W. y6 s( Z7 h4 U But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
- r/ T( w) ^6 u  u Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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& f% Z& r; Z4 y, r* y  E% Y1 Y The instant the pebble kisses the pond
# y" a  M# n) _- ], K: L Its signature of concentric ripples
' l/ o# d" Z7 K/ v* A5 }* B4 `0 t+ ] Spiral outwards
: U; `; m0 l5 O; f- t* \; |( r7 w Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
3 b6 O9 V. s1 m1 J( ?8 p By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
# ?& N6 h6 W3 B7 K# E' O* O Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

$ q  C% U( n" d0 G: ]  t Aren't we all pebbles?
, N6 |" f5 ~1 p- J- I3 [7 z Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
. u7 a3 W* O' M2 x1 B3 m That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
2 D6 ]6 V* v7 P5 o! i# H on a path into ourselves.

( b$ B$ |% g1 i4 V$ r It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
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Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
0 H3 P$ ~! I: v Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
7 M1 C, [4 x- w5 c Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
' G2 n/ ^! N* G+ C7 Y& G3 C; A0 } beckon our lasting attention
. V( ?* l* [0 d+ _ We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
8 Z/ `7 l" M; H$ o/ q3 a& k because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

( Q/ m* D0 ?% [ And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
2 R  C5 Q( y- c9 T- J* k' [ 8/18/03