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.
5 D& v2 m: C2 e" m+ ~
Heaven
, ?0 `7 i# g+ b% Z. k4 p4 S The pebble is worn smooth
0 H3 I, k' J6 q6 G% x7 Z: H6 z9 P$ q Made small over time
# s% n' v" c" z( y8 _& r5 r. J A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
: l0 T1 b) h9 i' I: R. A A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
! w2 D/ `8 L* ]" Z% k  H An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
" C8 g* S0 ?( v) t Is neither understood nor appreciated
) w" Q. `8 l1 F1 L; N But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

: }6 s; D' D6 u% ~- y6 w The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
/ E$ E0 Z  Q0 Z2 t Gently affecting everything in its wake
  ^; T6 e6 o- Q$ s( P4 ~5 X4 O Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

* w5 h$ {& v: K. ~7 p& p" v  p- m The pebble creates its worth and meaning
( X2 a2 d! x6 D* {# O0 l By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
$ p9 [: Q. p" C( j" { Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
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Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
! k3 d7 ^4 M) O8 E5 \  ]5 v1 H# Z But ultimately recognizing
, e# k% B& E9 @: h! h That who we are meant to be
# g! X. _  o' P Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
6 Y" d9 h/ }9 U Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
) F% U* G; u% u. |8 B% f/ s& { Into the pond of life
2 \3 a4 g3 \" i+ h/ O Creating ripples
  b$ j: h3 v* m4 O that leave unique mark on our world
, ^/ d! {3 g3 u( W* ` Not because of thoughts
9 u" @  R3 U% \8 S not because of well meaning plans
9 O  k2 j% H; T9 @6 z But because of actions.
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Our life's prayers our answered
; n5 X: [6 A' t1 ]% v$ c( q" G Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
5 y. d5 @% E  r4 b! y1 P8 | Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
( r5 X! Y: E6 C. |& J
And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
2 \. m; B' y4 J/ n: D: K We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

( Z) B' r" L) Z$ Z Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03