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.

9 s9 ]0 C+ |) O% S/ h( O' ^0 } 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
5 b. C3 `; a9 V1 S( z7 `+ e Made small over time
$ N* _& a+ t) G, ^$ s5 h  E A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
9 W+ b6 M5 D' g. [ But just a very small stone.
. c9 Y( o$ ^  U- D; x: |
$ J* T, h0 l- Q8 M The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
! T. P) s: n. K5 a Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
7 }: b  N# C+ r; Q* H Its signature of concentric ripples
9 I$ ^/ S, U; E4 f& V& \ Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
8 A4 V" k- J2 p8 k2 i' D3 L4 ~9 r
- d; [5 ?) a5 K5 p. a The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
. g0 P  B/ w6 }* _7 E8 Z7 F Into a dueling force of action and reaction
8 l1 f1 o6 p% Z) x" g Creating karmic energy
5 `! K5 X" }; N# h0 o7 h' g( t4 c: b Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
3 U& V! A' p4 l/ q. `
; N) h7 }. V. y4 _& s# \9 w5 v; D Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
  s- S0 j& Z4 E1 J Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
+ {/ X  @( s: i2 I Our everlasting future
" C& P# U5 }+ o( a+ I' J Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
/ K! K8 ^5 E& l9 s" O( a Into the pond of life
. ~% [9 A9 [+ p" R7 d Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
0 @. V7 E! L0 R$ }: w( N9 o not because of well meaning plans
: m) A3 U6 q' `0 R0 h( V( D But because of actions.
' }% s; y% w" Y' K& u- @' Y! p
, T6 t9 ^2 G4 K8 p0 n9 x Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
4 U/ Q5 n! q9 {9 x8 Z0 u Changes the course of the lives
. h2 P& r- r% j8 ^% x# | Of those we touch.?

/ W8 b* D; X) {  J2 S; b& B And when the icy winds of death
, m& b0 B6 x# i, n9 q7 A beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
3 q: n0 b1 M7 K0 U
6 a0 y4 H9 ?* Y& V$ j2 x; N9 N5 ^ And then we have heaven …
0 ]. c. Q4 E6 f! y; `8 r
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03