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.

4 Y/ ~3 j6 R9 u7 x 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.

5 v0 m% E4 M1 f, H8 L) ?3 k Heaven
7 f+ M3 R% m. U7 [ The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
1 I+ ~* N9 I+ a3 F# f A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
$ P$ T% z1 S0 s" C An accidental offspring of a boulder
) }  W* i& b* [6 C" Q  I+ ?$ H9 k/ L8 Q+ z6 j But just a very small stone.
- E& f8 {" |4 g2 A& ~* F; o
" X' k* C: p" v7 h The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
7 N$ B/ S/ Q1 j8 l8 O+ a8 p2 a Its insignificance is transformed
7 i+ Y0 x( u6 [ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

, b3 h  A3 B0 i, E6 X The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
6 ^: |! l0 w1 B* F( @; k  f Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
  g5 F, j1 W  s- F Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
! B2 w/ P$ M6 s# z
, R. d+ ?8 x9 W( d5 q7 R6 ] The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
0 n$ s; i# f! h. Q2 B# k" b Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
, E8 Z  [$ u* e  ?0 X+ ^ But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
2 f) i0 k5 q8 Q0 h% w Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
- N6 x8 E8 q" P
1 d/ P* `. L  f1 Z% G+ g! \ It is true then:
' X; B7 Q% f, X+ R" l! Q Our everlasting future
& q9 q; s1 R  f" w" @9 G Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
2 L( J# |& P5 i9 _. N Creating ripples
' Q' |3 b' P2 t that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
" t- {4 g: e* Z/ f4 k not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

' G6 ?% i$ Q5 }* c% v Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
5 Z& O: [- j2 {$ j0 E8 Q No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
5 O0 y" K1 V9 u. o+ p1 N$ `9 K4 j  |& Q Of those we touch.?
7 @5 v9 l% K, O- A6 L- c& X
And when the icy winds of death
! E. `3 }' s: R: X( G beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
* [; K  E8 f) p The world will never be the same.

4 F" D3 J* [+ S) ^: f+ F; d And then we have heaven …
* p* \% q& H- }" D) {# x" Y: Z: G
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03