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.
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Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
; i) Q+ I( ]. T$ b 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
5 W9 b. h4 Z/ p6 G; E$ T1 v; h But just a very small stone.

- X5 g3 P6 `5 a- \% @ The pebble's place in our world
* s# r% P& l0 ^2 g3 X Is neither understood nor appreciated
9 y$ W9 |% |4 m0 q3 _/ G# m/ r But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
5 u5 y/ B  }& E! }$ N Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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The instant the pebble kisses the pond
! ~1 w+ D/ U  y  ?3 Y0 v Its signature of concentric ripples
& [; t! @0 q% |3 c$ l, | Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
2 x4 v5 X, F4 z0 ]& _) ^2 z Gently affecting everything in its wake
; q4 g# |0 e+ m7 h3 n Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
+ c1 u8 A, [7 ^. }% [7 O9 _" s" K
: f7 w2 Q6 H1 H/ Y( p# p The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
( x) N0 u# b5 e" w Into a dueling force of action and reaction
; U" _7 z* I2 M' ~- m Creating karmic energy
+ z& e2 S- l& u# K Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

+ N' P% x# z) g9 G3 w Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
. }( N: l' f% G7 J; j But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
1 @; ?6 R8 T% V on a path into ourselves.
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2 V0 ]2 h4 `6 O It is true then:
Our everlasting future
8 F& D: C1 r. C, H7 K Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
- O+ K& \2 r/ _) f3 D Into the pond of life
/ Z; x9 l# _8 i Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
* ~( W  G& u3 @1 m% Q* {* Q6 V Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
% `, }. I# o, l8 C But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
; u* p, s8 y1 f" C Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
6 B9 }; E' l2 @2 I7 Y! \ beckon our lasting attention
- f* @/ l( \6 f. k& n4 R5 D We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

2 G$ B# s" W& }: L And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03