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.
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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.

8 H8 s  h1 n0 A Heaven
7 J1 @/ D8 f4 ^/ \2 o3 ]: A The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
& O6 P8 _1 f  ~. i5 k5 M( I3 O( h1 v A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
* C) ?. ^8 J. T. f0 g: S  n A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
( U( U* y3 E+ N An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

! w; D+ r( V3 N! V+ k5 O$ y The pebble's place in our world
3 h) e9 I, e. P& w7 { Is neither understood nor appreciated
7 H3 Y- r/ S. ~' ?2 _. E But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
9 q8 E- j, j6 H* U" t, y; r Its insignificance is transformed
8 z/ _" R& O4 H0 \  D0 p: O1 u Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
" q, ^% E5 s3 w) _# y. ?( ?- ?" t
1 t; Q& |! L& l: D2 v The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
1 q: }3 I5 h0 H Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
* |, o1 ^. k/ i2 [$ J% f9 N# ~ Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
! N# h" b' Z( m9 G8 |* K Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
$ J! `3 Q* s9 H5 p  U9 Z- E/ b Can never be measured in isolation
% t& e9 \9 q% X: n on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
* P/ y3 n6 e9 O% h9 ]6 {, T Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
- q8 q0 _2 H' p9 i2 g1 I Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
" A- Q! E" a; o7 }& {% c5 Q5 S that leave unique mark on our world
6 R& Y1 [. k5 }' V7 t6 r Not because of thoughts
1 s5 Q4 W- ?7 B4 t& |; g$ B: e1 ~! r not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
: Z, m0 B5 @4 a  t" A5 U/ K+ n4 H Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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8 F4 @! d0 Q) E" N, I* I And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
7 h# a9 C9 O/ X, s, H, B We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
5 ]4 G* d( [  D The world will never be the same.
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6 ^% q% d- P% a4 c0 U1 D- q And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
2 n$ P" G. |; r, A: r 8/18/03