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
0 G$ ~8 u4 Y  M! \, D The pebble is worn smooth
8 h7 m, n+ \0 i  i& |7 Y9 r( n, I; h Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
9 b8 Y$ J8 s! U# \: U, H An accidental offspring of a boulder
6 w9 D, e( s6 t: q9 Y But just a very small stone.

9 a& D7 S! j1 i9 b- c The pebble's place in our world
7 b& O5 e( `) u3 ` Is neither understood nor appreciated
' _) C* p6 y) C0 ~ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
$ [+ `2 x1 ^& J; Y, } Its insignificance is transformed
6 U/ P- M& D/ a! [$ k Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
- z: J3 v0 _* ~8 `7 q
# H1 y2 _* o9 F( q: S! w The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
' u- m) Z' O* j& A# W" _ Spiral outwards
9 I4 o( A9 H, u/ q, h Moving far beyond itself.
& w. e1 ^7 O5 a Gently affecting everything in its wake
# o( O6 `+ s9 F6 ]1 I1 Z% P Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
; Q! \7 N* O" B+ e- ^; A/ d By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
  H/ o" W" T; W) R9 w Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
/ _7 B' N* n0 g) A* Y
! K8 j6 d# [2 K$ g& t Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
; B9 x7 d- t5 W  i That who we are meant to be
1 P. D, b2 T* e) U0 C- w" K  h4 N Can never be measured in isolation
) q$ l, p4 P0 y$ ?% R on a path into ourselves.
( ^* c' N  T( }' U
It is true then:
8 d. [7 C: p  T" f) P2 X Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
5 V1 p; R0 S7 M) ~! U8 O1 k Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
; o$ j3 Y; d' d; e! I
' i+ \  M. H% P' v9 W Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
% z* f( Q; u1 F1 t$ I6 y" b Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
' k" P! z% m" X, c# E0 B5 V; l$ F We will gently leave this life
" R2 m5 J+ r+ P6 L1 h, e With the knowledge that
5 Q) {  z' |4 s. W9 x because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
( ?; u- Z: c) X) _
And then we have heaven …
1 N( H  ]8 s* W
Ross Rosenberg
  M- s' r% x! | 8/18/03