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.

/ l4 m* O* S5 y1 m/ m. w 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
  h( q: q. q: ?0 I& V* ] The pebble is worn smooth
; {1 X! L* d+ \$ t Made small over time
3 ~% p) t4 w+ _$ ` A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
6 l6 a  ^5 \: b: g+ Y But just a very small stone.
2 m. G5 q; ]1 y8 u" H9 x' }: {
3 O: \- W, z0 p& Z% R0 x% _ The pebble's place in our world
' J) z4 y8 j$ C Is neither understood nor appreciated
6 ~0 Z( F) H( l, Z But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
& I6 b4 ?6 b, `- V, X" T  D( c Its signature of concentric ripples
% @; Z4 }* A8 o) X4 O Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
2 u9 b  x1 Y  I8 f Gently affecting everything in its wake
( z5 R$ u9 z; l+ b8 b Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
, |% f1 S& j. E' f/ O; m* }
0 t/ F' `. ?% h& }6 k The pebble creates its worth and meaning
( D4 S) a( ~' a, M" J/ V1 O By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
* q1 q! u5 y3 X+ `9 k Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
" A7 ?$ \2 P) T% V; h
Aren't we all pebbles?
7 E# E2 U  h* k% A( v* P Feeling small and insignificant
4 w. i! J0 a0 P9 [. H# o But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
% D9 U5 x; s4 e on a path into ourselves.
' {# s' U& Q2 {( U0 c" y
1 t" @2 x+ Q# Z% B7 E8 h It is true then:
& y% X' r+ O' B$ [ Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
" ]  p, m* X9 c: Y$ i% W that leave unique mark on our world
2 l; E4 Y" x9 O Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
; L9 Y6 c# k5 `' t( F Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
; U( h/ A- T0 A) R' x
( {' \3 Y6 b4 x; g And when the icy winds of death
- Y/ k& f1 }8 b" `0 s+ f/ J' ]+ Y4 i beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
( Q6 W4 X+ Q. z With the knowledge that
! _4 N! q2 m6 |4 [/ X5 G because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
( I8 Y, l4 G+ e
And then we have heaven …

3 j/ G+ F3 ]# d3 y Ross Rosenberg
) l$ \* p9 y5 [- J" |7 b9 J 8/18/03