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.

6 H; D: t) ]% ^+ L: B3 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.
. b, A4 }+ y4 h
" p" G* V9 L) t1 _% p3 K; y2 H( ?4 Y Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
# f; V# S/ i1 g( A  r( B But just a very small stone.
# v( _2 H: R1 g4 i+ j/ _" e
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
! g9 F# O# L+ S4 S. T7 H% P/ l But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
4 ~; F8 K& c4 @1 v Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

  m+ T* {: K1 P) J The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
/ B* o4 b4 T2 F4 L9 { Moving far beyond itself.
2 h8 t  _1 W8 W! F* [4 x  Y2 E Gently affecting everything in its wake
* ?- X- G+ m. e- _* H3 R Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

4 t) }7 o* ^3 n9 z* G( O The pebble creates its worth and meaning
' S; b7 O3 X; R/ c( V8 S By unleashing its unimagined power?
+ j* b& D1 Q7 S2 x$ R% x Into a dueling force of action and reaction
' ^1 O6 f* U; \ Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

* }0 i& i# f8 I+ Y* o$ a Aren't we all pebbles?
' q. I0 w7 e2 K6 o Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
( G  m  {8 d3 H6 {9 x2 k That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
4 u/ {5 O8 J! {& J" o- z) o' z on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
/ g9 |5 f, e" [: K Our everlasting future
) I9 ?6 u8 @1 i; x Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
: |# ~/ i) R1 y8 Q! t' }1 @ Not because of thoughts
: C& W" W: R3 \/ b* D+ f, D not because of well meaning plans
% h3 X8 r8 Q, A But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
; G7 M+ C; y; c( P( a/ W: i Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
0 M! {- i6 i9 a1 y4 M8 T2 f, S beckon our lasting attention
' |# G" g4 d& b6 ^1 }! U We will gently leave this life
+ S- d" w& r8 w; e- Z4 _, `+ ?5 D With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

* ]* [& a% i' b* a And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03