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.
0 R$ L( ~' i* T0 Q% }/ y- x
Heaven
3 o" a/ \% v6 T5 v, R: z; }0 e The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
, ^/ I$ N! ]4 c2 y$ K0 w1 m A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
+ M( }5 ?6 i% z+ g An accidental offspring of a boulder
8 `  ?" h8 G9 r- H# h% z But just a very small stone.

' R4 U! K  n/ N6 n- @+ b1 M The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
! L* H# K6 W1 z' H0 K6 [3 a$ k Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
* Z* [, Y( L! P3 y& E
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
7 X; {8 X, Z3 n( [ Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

; q0 I, ^6 J2 {' c  J( i& u3 I- I The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
0 w+ R1 H- r. E7 x3 b9 c Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

, T3 M! V1 l$ V$ T Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
# m2 ^4 P, l# [7 e2 ^7 d But ultimately recognizing
  `5 a% K3 ~- L( R/ ` That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

% C2 U, x- m9 I( _% H It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
& K$ E) z; \4 E Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
, m* }3 r9 S; L; B+ x/ h; j2 V But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
4 |9 v* P% e' d6 b Changes the course of the lives
9 W: e- u# Y; G$ E. b6 \ Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
+ [! D9 k# q6 ?. m% m0 @1 H With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
6 k# H3 ?# B. E  O5 P" T The world will never be the same.

( q; r. Q/ b1 g2 @, t& [ And then we have heaven …

1 z( G, t6 {) @+ X7 h Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03