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
4 Z0 o* h4 ~& J- Z: k! h7 m, A$ ? Made small over time
$ H3 Y+ S. F: V" B7 k* A9 V2 W0 I) s A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
5 o; S3 E7 B; I3 B0 K( Q4 ^" I An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

8 j, o& ?- [+ N, x The pebble's place in our world
/ K0 h, c* g' c2 w; s4 z3 Y Is neither understood nor appreciated
  d/ ~3 L( g  L4 Y; i" m- y/ t But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
. {+ T$ c0 Z6 [3 j$ h  I Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
/ Z- a% k1 U1 Q) w8 e% R, r
- J8 L- d: X0 |6 b3 _" o The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
3 W' {+ J( D4 G4 G$ `) J9 i Spiral outwards
6 k2 S8 J! ]9 F7 D& n Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
. ]6 Y) A  a6 {% H8 x" ]
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
( d* t; S1 \; g; ]& b Creating karmic energy
6 m# W4 d( j7 n6 t! e Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
. v0 h* }& D* L& Z" j on a path into ourselves.
" @9 X2 {6 }, S9 S! M$ w
6 @% f, |- v3 B5 w1 V* B8 r It is true then:
+ U4 T1 a- ]# \: }1 t Our everlasting future
6 G# Y7 W0 M+ ]( e* Q3 A' A# q6 u Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
+ ~( \& w3 R  ^, b9 E Creating ripples
" t3 y: j7 X- R; J- o that leave unique mark on our world
- o# y7 s% o- y) i Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
& a: C- S$ s6 w5 a) ? But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
2 }* Q4 {. D0 R/ K No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
9 {& N7 J5 Y5 B1 z
) n+ g$ e$ s0 b; R/ d And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
( l# N( _# x, N5 c: ]' h/ Q8 M: n We will gently leave this life
0 T* Q. G4 g$ I7 M With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
8 j. l( u1 R1 A5 `) O2 L( w The world will never be the same.
/ N9 _( L# V8 M* H
And then we have heaven …
( q6 L- B/ z) H' R6 n4 l7 N8 b
. g7 v1 W7 b% q( s* {& j* j Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03