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.
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$ V# M* M7 Z: i2 Z9 n! _ 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.
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$ m* q0 M3 N! L Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
$ E* b; s) _8 k' Z4 M; w4 d. T; I  K2 r Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
) A; U5 l3 J) J/ V$ U" s( p A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

& B! v$ U# k% I) T% L' \ The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
' h, x$ O- f# q% n1 @. F) q But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
- i) Q6 a/ R, j( p. f1 b0 Y Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

& e3 {+ g$ d+ T$ A# u' ~ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
% t; U7 q# ^/ ^# C* ^1 H; { Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

  q: h- r( A4 C8 B/ f: c# u The pebble creates its worth and meaning
9 @7 i* g0 k4 r7 Z9 A9 u  A, Y By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
$ Z/ }5 a. R- l& D# B Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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; `1 C* R2 R* R Aren't we all pebbles?
* t$ q' ]5 u! l; V Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
/ L3 h+ |( s/ e3 W( \% } That who we are meant to be
$ m+ Q3 |3 E6 K/ ~  h7 w Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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, e: }) x/ O7 W& L9 E, B7 l It is true then:
Our everlasting future
- U7 m% [: F6 U$ s+ j9 N  y Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
( ~" {5 `4 e  ]+ F$ C8 T7 z Creating ripples
- ^; f3 k2 [9 Z8 Z. P that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
# I% s) H( `$ M" D2 ^, S. O$ R But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
7 w' C" a. r% W, \) Y Changes the course of the lives
( I( Z9 P- N3 |2 N' ^8 f0 G Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
2 k# n2 l# ?2 _! P/ H With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
" H* ~3 Q: q: h1 B: }' S0 l2 P The world will never be the same.

% I7 `# ]7 @: b- c' c4 T, ` And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03