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.

( K* D- e( z9 g$ y" s% G# c9 k  ] 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
% e) s( @' `1 ]1 c The pebble is worn smooth
5 z  T  x5 \5 y& U3 _ Made small over time
5 @/ ?, Z) [! I A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
5 Q: [7 h( r& @# Z) t4 E A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
7 ?3 ~" ~( p/ O7 G6 y An accidental offspring of a boulder
# I5 I: G% v3 v! ]6 H4 s: U" ^; I But just a very small stone.

: X8 `" E+ y& k( r% K The pebble's place in our world
3 R9 X3 z( l& z- r+ }" Q Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
: J! ?1 n$ ]6 v; p4 _# K Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
: X* W7 v( S5 G% E8 A6 w5 z; v. }
# t( I2 N/ j4 ?  c( g6 _4 O! d The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
& e% S' i7 B, \/ _$ b2 A Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
* ?- A; E& }5 L: q" M Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
" s  I/ m' c5 V+ J4 H$ N Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

5 n+ ?7 O5 k6 R+ I0 g0 N+ Q: v Aren't we all pebbles?
3 e5 R& D- j( M* m4 J1 r& P Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
/ H& @6 b# v, X* J( }3 r
- U- d( X8 W9 K9 L4 z, z$ k It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
( N. g- l$ Z. v# I# n Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
, t* g( m2 p0 U5 M/ W that leave unique mark on our world
  Y/ s, C; P$ Y7 M" ]9 A" o# a; b* R7 Z Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
; X: v8 }" I) v  `3 Z But because of actions.

$ ~  y% z( _: O7 V Our life's prayers our answered
$ ?' z2 _  S0 d Because even the smallest pebble
& n0 i. a$ P4 C. _/ P5 a6 u; I No matter how seemingly insignificant
% L+ k0 N4 h! A' w# a( O( Z Changes the course of the lives
8 D2 V" r. R/ T) F$ t2 s6 Q* m8 C Of those we touch.?

6 g2 q* N' K# R8 }: Z& N  y And when the icy winds of death
" s7 t- w# o+ z( \2 H beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
3 w$ C5 s& A: B! e3 Z; ]3 w With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
: p; ^& L) x/ f The world will never be the same.
/ l! k) j  D$ i3 G; `6 c8 a
And then we have heaven …
! x( Z3 w9 ^) [2 ?7 l8 W
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03