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.

8 s8 l' ^( h! o3 v* o) |! l+ a 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
- j' a& v+ `* \, _3 a4 | 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.
0 |3 K- N  |6 a3 x9 k1 B7 ~( r% W
. y. [( Q' U4 V" r% U; Z  x! R The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
" \" Z( j* J, M  v) w: f2 [6 h0 ~ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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  J9 ^4 \. k/ G1 p3 N& [ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
$ o' T% I* b* ] Its signature of concentric ripples
7 k7 r. o3 v" [& N( U' m/ B Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
5 R# l" t( m+ {# x( Q* O, c
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
+ v, H* f: G( e% B: O Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
- u& {' p! ~2 Y( I* r7 x' H But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
" p7 ?6 O" M9 T+ l Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
8 G3 {% M9 d, W( \ Into the pond of life
4 M1 a* ]5 `/ n Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
+ ]/ C# {9 f) r5 y7 z Not because of thoughts
  l. G; D/ u( E not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
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' l+ ~! T& s: k* O Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
# C  g) |& @$ Y) W3 v1 R# F Changes the course of the lives
4 `0 ?0 J7 F- ?. u% V Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
; s$ v  P2 b+ U" m9 x/ [& ^ beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
( T& Z, R7 W( z, f because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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+ d# x' F" ^- s/ v& M4 f/ x. u$ t And then we have heaven …

1 X9 [1 r$ q/ q$ r Ross Rosenberg
7 p6 k, I6 L0 s* n; e! z* U3 M3 { 8/18/03