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.

Heaven
* t2 p0 k1 V5 I The pebble is worn smooth
1 p" @1 ^+ O4 y6 I( H3 ]5 n. j Made small over time
8 U5 v. w4 i5 }( Y: ?" }/ t A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
& [5 p% n# H; ]: T# g. I3 v" K A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
4 {8 c/ Q7 I# x/ ^
The pebble's place in our world
. u7 d) J( x' J5 ?" [ Is neither understood nor appreciated
9 z: U4 e$ W) I) s But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
, |8 S; b1 C. @% z) q Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
+ q$ S) J- [! }+ w5 U
! U' B: k$ j; w* l$ V9 O) P; p The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
- G' M# ?$ e; s Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
! O" X7 ~6 ~/ v! H$ N2 r  E8 S
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
# M7 b- K- I. A0 |4 _* c Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
3 j% `5 v$ [: `7 p But ultimately recognizing
) k9 e/ R# u4 J! l0 Y% H That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
0 ~, D$ t' a; L9 k; B' e on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
9 y. S& O- t& R, z$ [ Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
2 S% s/ \3 W: B not because of well meaning plans
6 f* m1 }9 a8 R8 R9 L But because of actions.
( b) q& t* M1 O' P
Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
* [, _' l. e+ c# \3 c- G- {' H" h5 r* k Changes the course of the lives
/ Q8 D5 ?  q+ S9 `4 m- t Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
9 A( q9 N9 R) w* _" p" S( x We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

4 h' U7 X. ^9 }+ @9 r( L8 M) e: ` Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03