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.

2 x4 C: q) e% p8 @2 _: }& g& ^0 N 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.
% u/ Z& Q0 w* ?5 j/ C' c9 `. z, ]
Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
9 X9 I, D+ I# e Made small over time
& \3 o+ w: P5 s3 ~ A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: K6 L& t1 ?9 ?  R6 W A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
5 {( F; D) H" Z
" E& D# l4 Y+ t! _" o* ?# f The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
' w3 d6 m% @: V% D5 F* E; p) e But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
# J; u, y. a. }( `  x Its insignificance is transformed
' V8 i' }' n5 h5 E" T8 m Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
2 q) \* c" [3 \0 ?; e Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
" U/ w( o! V' S% J; P; E3 f By unleashing its unimagined power?
2 p' \2 d0 b7 a/ X! U Into a dueling force of action and reaction
$ h1 Y, ?4 r* l( n7 [) C% v Creating karmic energy
0 B4 h6 {* R$ p. b$ d$ O! w Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
1 I9 R" \$ I6 v- m) M Feeling small and insignificant
& ~' X+ w" z3 N8 J. y) S But ultimately recognizing
- ?+ x! s4 Q* S% g, Q, S That who we are meant to be
2 B/ j; x& I# f Can never be measured in isolation
# z. J8 z  p' p" W0 b" c$ v" o% U on a path into ourselves.

' _. a! e# _9 G( @ It is true then:
" a. G+ r1 |+ C6 _9 ? Our everlasting future
: z5 }( c% y( {0 k9 C- T) V9 u Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
2 |8 O( d. b4 A# X* T Into the pond of life
$ J- F6 \# ^0 `+ g# I) x Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
# B9 P8 n7 ]1 I  X( ~ Not because of thoughts
9 F0 ~' L( R: D8 H  n' G not because of well meaning plans
  a7 ~3 _+ N# C6 q; F& b/ Y, o6 d8 Y But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
; Y! q( i& V* O. k$ v" ? Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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0 t4 Y8 R( m: m# }% B& n  u% g And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
5 E8 R& q3 @$ A% V" A because of that one pebble
' {# V! @9 U, N9 T! f( Y The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
2 W; O: j5 f& Y) h 8/18/03