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( Y0 |) A0 B! B2 S 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.

" \6 L0 |2 S7 V6 [; X Heaven
$ y; Y& v3 @' O! w$ i The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
! G$ X$ S; M$ O! G0 G) h) S$ u1 H! ] A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: `' B1 g% n/ H A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
: Q( ~2 e& H4 C But just a very small stone.

3 V) C1 W0 R3 Y; Q9 r+ h2 l The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
  W% u5 F1 }* {- D2 W+ } But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
' u; V9 f7 E  T1 e( J Its insignificance is transformed
- X/ l" f9 s' M. M% v: i Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
2 Q) f6 e; P7 p; W5 F
: Y/ X. j' o# {1 `0 L$ O The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
; L( [; p/ s1 q" y7 @ Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
* T& I( Q6 t, d Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
+ k) ~/ q# \# d5 a0 i# `! g0 ]: k
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
' E; R% I% p' [& T# Z By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
/ I8 T( v- O5 S( A Feeling small and insignificant
- @- m' N: K! T( K% B But ultimately recognizing
6 z% p5 I- w8 \3 Y: M That who we are meant to be
7 @) Q7 s6 X1 n; t Can never be measured in isolation
5 E6 J8 ?" n, N& X" P: n on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
$ o3 Z: V& T& A1 u Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
9 e% H) O$ g: @, d( N8 g: z not because of well meaning plans
' f1 `" G8 E; a- l6 \  g. S0 V But because of actions.
! Z5 y1 }+ J1 ]. V& F! G6 t
" W! \! ^% D- J; b- E) I Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
; v8 M+ \2 t0 N! q No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
- {6 o9 B) N" d% Y beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
  p3 \8 W7 [1 L8 Y* t! o- f With the knowledge that
: t( \0 S& P# `3 W4 g because of that one pebble
. d% g* c' s8 q; o8 _( y The world will never be the same.
& P7 {, H0 U$ g1 |/ p  z
And then we have heaven …

3 T5 a- ]- o8 I Ross Rosenberg
& I- a3 ?- \5 s3 P' p* O5 E 8/18/03