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.

9 }9 l: @  |$ R$ o. O+ s Heaven
3 N) f9 _* A- N. ?* B5 N 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
3 I. r8 ^" Y) X6 ]5 x But just a very small stone.
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$ A' ~1 I/ v9 v4 X4 S/ i' A: t) g" L The pebble's place in our world
. b8 f/ N, q  }* R& O5 V Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
3 t' ?% q& f) n. B' z4 g Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
. R9 _- H4 W# {& t3 }5 k Spiral outwards
! L0 `" M1 m( L: l$ U Moving far beyond itself.
  v7 g. m6 q+ N4 k6 p Gently affecting everything in its wake
7 b5 S8 K1 Q. i" e/ S+ S0 W. z# @. ^ Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
, q( X. v8 R# J% a9 _- c. w By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
  O- S3 b3 [* D. c/ H. B7 v Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

3 E% E: }/ {# Y# h8 _ Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
. M2 J% N( _( b3 G" k. @ But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
5 C' ^# _1 J, r' Z Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
& Q1 x/ L* i/ k1 o! G Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
! i# F# \% Z7 o7 l0 o Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
  p% M' D1 a2 t  |3 t: v not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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5 _6 w: M, l0 W3 l" _5 l5 I% W Our life's prayers our answered
5 c0 g1 s+ x4 n Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
0 X$ S3 \& b( T; F Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
, O& f( b& a! u) ?" |- `3 \ We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
0 }- C4 w% S% g2 i; J) c! F+ W- }
/ x! z/ x6 y& c9 E! K* s1 u And then we have heaven …
6 e' K7 V% ^9 z# o- }: M
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03