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.

5 |6 H' y; Q! B 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.

- A( M0 `$ P' x: [ Heaven
* i7 m/ T8 K* [* s& H The pebble is worn smooth
: M1 t0 o. u# t* c6 o4 C5 } Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
7 o' t+ \: A6 y6 v7 k
5 `3 J) A3 f/ v$ H1 ]; _ The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
2 z' L2 T+ _' g; a7 m$ {9 Q Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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* e0 K- D3 ^5 a2 l. |6 ]7 `. Z8 r The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
- D' y7 W0 U4 d% F) c% f( R Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
/ p5 ?4 W$ k! _  v- ` Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

' |6 f5 w: j$ P The pebble creates its worth and meaning
, M0 ]! j- F9 r/ j" S3 q% F" } By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
" N" T3 o/ @; A$ k$ G Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
  }  {( @9 q" @$ q* U That who we are meant to be
1 A( [6 d8 L' C# i$ B& @ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
! W6 v1 i  V$ I9 I, T( x' x" K2 U Our everlasting future
* l. c/ R) j2 G9 o Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
4 t1 t9 a; Z6 I6 _ Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
4 v  c; ?1 p* V/ c& r that leave unique mark on our world
8 U, K5 `8 h5 S/ {; n Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
0 S% D" e5 l1 x+ S5 L# y$ P But because of actions.

! B0 u) }- b8 R: |9 M8 G8 I Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
1 M1 p" A2 P1 p* W+ R No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
3 P3 W! w( G% U; h- p% q, J% g Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
4 o, A+ x% B, {( C We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
+ q+ o3 L  S5 o* N  ~ because of that one pebble
5 h8 Y7 B8 x% B  f5 P0 S: X+ r The world will never be the same.

( x5 d( f9 E" n3 C0 M# A" p And then we have heaven …
5 z& \9 e' t  U
Ross Rosenberg
6 c# }* z8 z* V) j7 E 8/18/03