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.

Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
9 q8 d6 d, F( C Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
+ G: p8 o! A$ M, l" }1 N9 d' @* }6 z A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
, L/ s/ Y* g. y6 `# n0 ~ An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
5 c/ d0 Q9 _* a7 E0 g  P* A
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
& }) e0 K+ r- h: u+ ` But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
0 ]' x- H0 ~- z7 X; d; j$ K* Y% o Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
/ Q7 U, Q5 u( @# e' z7 h" T
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
7 q( H: e2 h3 V8 l+ w6 g Its signature of concentric ripples
3 [$ h; K0 h$ Z7 l. B Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
8 y! }" H- P, d0 N) a; @
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
: U. r. h. E8 q* O- F* X3 c By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
, Z' n: |' S9 K% G Creating karmic energy
* {; `2 o" P: [7 ] Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
  j  C# @% f4 T
Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
# D4 c/ Y% Z' s& S! u on a path into ourselves.

! U; x/ l; \5 T( r5 h; E It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
' b7 y: |& {- w# C( s- W3 p Creating ripples
& f' J; J3 u# W1 E, s/ A" F that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
" W  P* A7 k( P% k1 \3 b But because of actions.
- X, Q: b) G; Y( ?- ]4 n- F& X
Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
, m* H* l' H! X/ ^8 {( D, ~1 P Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
0 A3 ?+ P, Y0 K3 \" \, W& I
7 H6 G2 N2 C) L And when the icy winds of death
6 u4 e+ k# H3 {* X7 C" K+ P: d beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
! ^1 Q; a. f' T% y3 ?# u- f With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
* a6 r1 }9 A2 v. }
: o/ H$ G- {( c, ^/ R1 Q* S And then we have heaven …

) t5 d7 B- ?6 O# ]; c Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03