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.
' f+ N! M+ _9 B* e  G! }
Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
- F5 }8 X$ q1 @0 X4 w, B- w2 i A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
- M& I3 |$ o. F+ K) q But just a very small stone.

- H' s2 q8 z9 Z& `5 j5 }% n, P# \1 B The pebble's place in our world
9 _; d$ m1 I; o# y4 B3 D Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
1 T- k' x$ ?+ E" v3 [ Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

( |/ E' l- ~: {* }+ b% O The instant the pebble kisses the pond
7 j/ l1 x+ c/ t  b8 y Its signature of concentric ripples
2 }! B9 q$ V/ J- A0 I4 { Spiral outwards
* z; ^% U) D2 F" c3 y Moving far beyond itself.
2 ]: K& {; Y, k* r: c9 `. S% c Gently affecting everything in its wake
( R7 o3 _5 {( t% J6 G+ g. t Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

* {: r+ f: T' X; w) w3 D1 Y4 t The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
  n" M( q& e4 A Into a dueling force of action and reaction
! W+ U; e" H7 m2 a Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

7 Q9 m0 o6 d8 m% m Aren't we all pebbles?
% n9 Z( E$ D1 i/ a7 s6 W Feeling small and insignificant
% n* d1 d7 e: u% Z. H) n2 Y But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
6 w, x( n+ \& I" F& s4 [% c on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
* j+ N4 r- D0 g& Y0 G- s% d) y4 r3 Y( v Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
5 p, c- j6 F3 I' L' g Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
$ T) M' w9 Z' b' F0 D1 J) B Not because of thoughts
" g; o' g+ c1 ?; }6 e not because of well meaning plans
( b' |3 O+ ]( Z5 O% O But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
( B; e( Z, s1 a* g& H& ^7 |- o Because even the smallest pebble
5 x) r! U1 J/ ~ No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

1 f% Y! S5 J8 V; b% k6 _6 F And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
: ?  @1 Q4 O: ~* r7 V With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
. J0 s& D, i- {: u& r  h; Q
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03