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.

4 f* k) W1 [$ @# z3 K* Z! g: 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.

$ n' _3 O" F! z+ u: S Heaven
2 M6 h% N  ~" K4 u# \5 _  p. ~3 U The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
' l) n% l: W9 n& Y' |8 }, [, n A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
' p, q( A: o0 Y5 l# N An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

! z! W+ b) M: F. C The pebble's place in our world
- b" D9 |: M! u! _ Is neither understood nor appreciated
0 r( ?/ @. l; m$ u9 O8 N But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
. d) d" h6 p# G1 k8 i) E
4 P  k3 V5 [( [+ z6 { The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
  X+ H' S' m3 G- a3 P0 e Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
9 r( c" w) |- A1 {- {8 \4 Z8 k Gently affecting everything in its wake
% E5 e3 t6 S0 A0 \5 m Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
# B6 d% C- T5 T. q8 S% w5 h4 q
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
+ G4 d- u4 i: K6 y Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
2 N8 G. \5 \6 F) _& w5 f Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
5 }5 f: p' W2 X3 Q3 c
Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
7 m3 L$ t' k+ w* T0 F& w' Y But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
, |' i, @8 N" u5 H  i9 K0 f on a path into ourselves.
5 v" s7 G' r! o2 @( [
( q8 d& ^' |3 i# u& F) H5 @' q It is true then:
Our everlasting future
& t# J- Y' i9 F) g Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
- f0 y$ t! t8 O8 d+ z8 P4 M Creating ripples
2 s! q! ?& d* l that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
0 H$ E$ u5 [2 `6 k$ ^ But because of actions.
+ M1 X. e+ w, o" w' d
Our life's prayers our answered
: o- m( g! G" R8 s  C4 _6 _ Because even the smallest pebble
; @/ z5 d6 w% v1 s+ t No matter how seemingly insignificant
9 H& x2 ?' L  k% a Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
( l$ ?" T: W1 c- A
And when the icy winds of death
7 L+ x# p& e" z! r beckon our lasting attention
: a% ?' T; o( f: S We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
# T& d) t& a* q% A' J+ e" ? because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

1 f! d3 M7 |6 a/ m1 ]  ? And then we have heaven …
) J9 V$ ~' V. [8 j
- v% k$ z$ O2 M: b  o; i0 ] Ross Rosenberg
: N1 y8 J5 M& j/ w( T; v% a 8/18/03