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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3 K& ~: Y2 B% l2 b8 r2 [ 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.

* ^$ I- e. W- N; O" A, ~% g 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.

- @, e3 f4 q7 B The pebble's place in our world
( _3 B# D$ ~0 w# N5 @9 c Is neither understood nor appreciated
6 c( c! T" |8 n7 k2 ]! t7 S But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
- \0 `) B1 i: l7 Z- U/ Z: Z9 g Its insignificance is transformed
, K6 V9 ^& x; {8 }$ I Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
5 N. P, O! f. l5 j5 q- ?/ F Its signature of concentric ripples
7 K" [8 v7 E) z0 \ Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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& A5 v( V/ {9 w2 [$ z The pebble creates its worth and meaning
7 K  K' U2 x9 ?6 z7 Z8 J* R2 d8 T By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
$ s5 Z( p/ _6 v! j# L- [4 x
( o0 A( i2 q; g( x Aren't we all pebbles?
4 o3 g8 h9 j$ \: ?. M  m" u Feeling small and insignificant
: Z& o0 a7 {' B5 E8 ?- z* l But ultimately recognizing
5 B6 s. Y: G$ g+ N! v+ m That who we are meant to be
5 D1 T+ s. L6 |; d! i5 O" U- v Can never be measured in isolation
9 Y! y/ @9 B9 c; P$ R+ P2 w! H. M, s on a path into ourselves.
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, s2 [6 l; F  {8 J7 ^6 w It is true then:
0 R6 E# R* R  {" l" r: b Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
6 J2 x  V  W* Q. B- c3 _ Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
; I9 H$ |$ s1 O' C3 i0 W, L, t not because of well meaning plans
4 r% `# o. ^; z) {* R) h& R But because of actions.
7 L9 L2 L+ s1 D( m2 c; P. O% |% D4 ~
Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
) L- k0 o" B2 B! W) f  b Changes the course of the lives
0 W; u  I4 D6 E% v) Q8 d' S Of those we touch.?
; G* v* N. q, b% |/ E4 |
% u! h0 a5 w6 n And when the icy winds of death
6 J) R0 j/ h' s0 K. U& E7 z3 M- T4 j beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

6 q. k! N2 v! c3 R* U. J; Z And then we have heaven …

# ]- p, i. Z/ @2 n6 o$ y Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03