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.

# s' Q% v' @/ x2 \. x 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
The pebble is worn smooth
1 M, J! n5 D5 S0 C Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
6 C; s1 T8 D( M* k0 v% r A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
& Q5 G" Q: B$ }- d But just a very small stone.
4 u& q* _$ ?- R6 t- d
# b( r1 {, D- X- w5 ]4 x The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
0 Z) W) V! T! c7 \3 w% u
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
9 }  P2 i0 T; o1 a Moving far beyond itself.
% J0 P: T" w( x Gently affecting everything in its wake
( S5 `) G5 O( ]7 g0 G/ I Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
. ~0 c1 g. [5 q5 \
, v; C9 E: |1 ~9 h' X The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
% w5 F# A4 b  ^/ j9 z% K Creating karmic energy
( j, w2 D# T/ z0 r Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
2 {" H5 A3 s+ s3 K" j. M
Aren't we all pebbles?
* u( V* @$ p2 p8 w- W. [7 K Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
( J  C1 N2 _$ O* F; L Can never be measured in isolation
; q& b) T* `/ d& U/ }/ H on a path into ourselves.

/ R8 D7 U) c/ ?- Q) f+ s6 o# x2 i! F It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
$ t& f3 Z" P- T6 \1 H  a Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
5 v6 }7 A( w# J. S& ~! o" t1 y that leave unique mark on our world
1 [, j5 K0 X+ N; \2 v2 ~: Z, K$ E Not because of thoughts
% E! Q9 n, b+ [( S6 ` not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
2 n* t* U/ i2 [& `6 }3 ^
Our life's prayers our answered
; a  Y( ^4 D" z# n% k" y2 c Because even the smallest pebble
1 j% ^; I, p) k. p  {6 B No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
$ I: ~  m) G/ S! T. K
And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
; I: O0 X! \& L$ U: W2 N because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
( R9 T2 s0 h* g  N
And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03