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.

1 E% p+ r. K5 v- u8 ?6 A7 Z 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.

' S5 v2 n0 h; W8 H+ f  o6 y, E Heaven
$ h! m9 r5 [) |- S+ @ The pebble is worn smooth
, z6 n7 y: a) T  [' b Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
6 Q! ?6 [2 L' }& G' [! V A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

- I+ r7 ^+ V" W- U) O1 n& N% ?, w The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
. z/ y- n4 N; V  i( [, | Its insignificance is transformed
4 _- e" x; D7 N0 O9 V& m( K/ k' b Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

7 H3 |' @: l/ E& c6 B! F: @+ F4 F The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
- D! x/ e# H( F, | Spiral outwards
. O; K" C6 K+ |% z Moving far beyond itself.
. D2 \# Q6 a$ k Gently affecting everything in its wake
" H1 E- q8 l$ V+ D1 x% D' p 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
# k: [3 u8 ~, n: a9 N( B- A4 p Creating karmic energy
/ E4 ~7 x, p% k) q$ [( s- _ Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
. V; [% G) Z- ^: ?$ Y That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
+ s$ }' K4 d0 k0 n on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
, H$ a6 T, D" ]: O% c3 w3 [7 ] Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
" W( y: U6 s( W9 z Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
$ {% Y7 A. {, n/ H9 w Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
& T. r6 \6 K: C/ a3 W But because of actions.

( W# P/ Q3 O- D; J! B( Y2 r Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
) _& @: l( {1 e6 i Changes the course of the lives
: n( _# C, \% _! q Of those we touch.?

( o& V; Q$ S( x  r And when the icy winds of death
. t: B$ x1 J% P) \7 _ beckon our lasting attention
8 n4 p2 B8 F, j% U) ~ We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
- a/ r$ Q* J. D) u; W6 w3 B; q2 v The world will never be the same.
  T1 d9 a' X- M$ T) J2 k+ J/ R7 c
. B, \/ H- |$ L% U' Y& s& A. N( L And then we have heaven …
5 c" ~! ~! \! V; j
Ross Rosenberg
# k7 C1 E3 j, a# w. _ 8/18/03