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.

) L- y; |; ~0 |' R 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.

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
But just a very small stone.
# Z3 @9 B, R* A* ?* O! C
2 E0 M& R0 f* E/ r( G6 I4 T0 d The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
3 a# I# p9 q8 e  V Its insignificance is transformed
5 @3 l# s( K/ t8 V3 E/ T. A Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

: o; T  j0 Q7 y6 d' ~6 b0 j; k The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
4 t0 B2 p! X( @5 h Spiral outwards
5 x7 k: j" U9 l+ U1 g1 _' s Moving far beyond itself.
! f  h5 O! p7 C' Y Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

( m9 s3 S/ g& o2 a! j) w The pebble creates its worth and meaning
! w1 r. B  \5 j* ]* Q By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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0 M( f& R7 \1 H" t( D Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
$ S, U+ s, i, d3 p But ultimately recognizing
2 ~6 u1 a" g$ f2 ^ That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

/ ?  \, \4 b$ Y It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
. H  o" L7 R) \# Z! D0 x) i Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
( t( R+ c5 k! T  I, l Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
* D2 S$ |. G! h But because of actions.

- \$ f' Q& Q) @) F7 v' y Our life's prayers our answered
$ [" ?  o9 _$ t1 k" e Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
" U+ Z9 s% x, d  d7 t4 m Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
/ r1 r+ X! q# B# E1 S. w# [0 U/ p beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
  x9 ?- D  S. v$ d3 \8 m because of that one pebble
, _' t9 ]3 X9 s; p3 L The world will never be the same.
$ M1 I* g( y3 \- n) N4 M" t1 }1 I* m
" s1 F5 f/ x% S And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
4 {3 ~( ^; f4 A( o5 z 8/18/03