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.

" u% {% D  x5 ~) s, E) `# ] 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.

! Y, U: {# Z. e Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
) [" e- g6 j, R, l2 F A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
# h1 F+ i0 e/ |3 J% s7 Q4 P A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

  C' I8 `9 W2 j0 w% O+ A) y The pebble's place in our world
# g9 A1 F/ g- S# i* Y$ N7 t Is neither understood nor appreciated
* C& R" n- E1 k But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
' q! _# ~$ Y/ x Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

; K4 k9 s- [7 K* ? The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
) P( ]; x) a+ v" f5 [ Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
" V. X$ ?* ~* X9 S Gently affecting everything in its wake
2 ^1 C8 I; K' M( b- |9 w Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
' `  d- c3 q/ _ By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
; w" j/ |7 Z8 n+ \# s* p, }
  _# y  W" N" G, C8 {; C* B Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
6 `% v. M, ~9 f8 F$ G# v4 a Can never be measured in isolation
2 T0 H6 q) h7 G' x on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
1 V6 b; m  l7 v9 V3 n Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
" N: R, A$ a1 X  ` Into the pond of life
. m+ [0 q: n$ C$ J1 H* S1 j Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
3 p2 }0 e  Q! C
# T+ S  f/ j: i; W Our life's prayers our answered
1 ?7 Y/ _9 p. \) ~* p2 B, a Because even the smallest pebble
2 K" F! G9 C+ L) c3 z. ?: c6 V1 d No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
1 `" v' ~4 `0 n0 O Of those we touch.?
% S' e+ w! p. E6 P* p/ G% q9 S
: K% {& Z  x* I. a And when the icy winds of death
6 o, r, q0 r/ n0 C: |2 e beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
* l  t/ a. Q5 } With the knowledge that
) U9 Y" j2 x$ ]9 _" l- J( h because of that one pebble
8 ]1 q) J$ E% b2 C* e; g* Z* i The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
  z% s( P1 N( R
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03