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
! w+ {3 K! q0 r& a+ ^! a/ J The pebble is worn smooth
$ f% _8 Z. m7 u' p7 { Made small over time
/ \! U; ~4 w  [/ j6 V6 m9 u( _ A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
* T" Q' d1 `1 R' i. }- T! n0 X; _ An accidental offspring of a boulder
! c4 }) J! C# I8 F7 x& l But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
5 Y$ e/ Q4 u. }1 {+ b( @% ~5 N: f Its insignificance is transformed
. N% L' E2 M# v5 X7 R Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

: w7 i) s  `7 C' I, \( D The instant the pebble kisses the pond
8 q4 o' N1 i6 d( K! [  R Its signature of concentric ripples
1 I# i" S/ @( A0 _2 C Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
2 A/ P# c: y/ m1 b* F" b; Q/ N! { Gently affecting everything in its wake
  ^# l- b: Y/ A2 M5 n! [+ l- m. l Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
( ~% c  z/ F! a# V Into a dueling force of action and reaction
! T0 D: r8 k1 _7 p4 I Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
4 u4 O- g1 p8 p( @" T5 x+ t
: g& M. Q& y3 U# a2 T' L Aren't we all pebbles?
" q: q/ U9 H- r) L Feeling small and insignificant
# g6 ]4 ^/ A1 \1 z$ i! O. Y" } But ultimately recognizing
# g+ N! ]3 j9 n( ]8 v8 { That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
% F3 @4 b- G0 q- C# W9 J on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
( _8 K3 _7 t/ T/ B% s% U' j Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
* i3 K7 c, h; [1 L: W4 s! J8 h Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
  t& I, U1 ~' @ that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
6 b1 R* f; E$ y) ^5 ~9 [; m But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
6 h6 o/ y3 k+ M. q0 {. |% C: s3 G# T Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

1 [/ W1 J) a: W& r# N% E And when the icy winds of death
7 k1 ~% P" l1 e5 E5 Q beckon our lasting attention
0 i7 k( @; {6 u9 }* i; O# G We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
7 ?  h2 g. r( Q because of that one pebble
9 i% r( w& w1 Z6 C2 i4 W The world will never be the same.
2 j( p+ T9 c0 v6 d
And then we have heaven …
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( M# T% k# d; n/ f: K Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03