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.

Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
* f& ^8 D4 x& R3 O Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
& V2 M8 `# q. A& W3 X A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
9 H+ F* V8 f8 z: }: B But just a very small stone.
$ n$ x2 d8 M4 {$ l& q% ?
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
2 J' B- G8 V4 O" c/ w. X+ ` But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
! L# o4 D8 ^( N. B Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

' E( h1 j# b9 V- B" Q The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
) p0 b: @2 U2 a Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
7 |* D! c; r; x0 f- C' B% T# u3 s Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
2 o% z3 {- ~8 v1 d5 U
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
' c$ p" ?- E1 R7 t9 U' K By unleashing its unimagined power?
+ @; r+ o9 b1 J+ M& G Into a dueling force of action and reaction
. C( {! G% Z+ | Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
7 _7 F, m# \- H6 ?* \5 i Feeling small and insignificant
5 {) g  B0 e8 H0 v7 D But ultimately recognizing
) {# K, ~0 k* ]0 H2 I6 J That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
; ~& p5 ^* `9 r9 d Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
% P: T# ]& [" V: V+ }1 k! `0 J that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
9 J0 x- o; u- r; N( f not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
' c2 T9 H) O- U# {8 c
Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
+ o+ r  d7 s0 _5 f5 t8 r" a( @9 @8 f No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
7 s7 k5 q) K1 J3 Z; L, @) m Of those we touch.?
1 c9 w+ ?6 k& `  M. ~/ O! y8 W$ e
/ f- y9 x7 z+ ^& }/ _- r8 u/ g7 G And when the icy winds of death
9 e& \. @8 `/ I% f, T9 i beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
9 A/ S; @) Q. h With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

& V* b6 y4 h% j And then we have heaven …
2 G* \- V$ Z5 U# O* v1 f
1 B$ O4 K# L3 Z Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03