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.

; m, m) m) H" \3 D" \) e Heaven
5 m% n6 y. O) L1 A0 S! }0 o- n The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
, D) \* A7 P# t" k, H A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
' {2 I( w3 j% H" w! J0 w0 [ An accidental offspring of a boulder
6 I# h; |5 k1 S. j; A But just a very small stone.
+ i& ~9 ~4 p" v' m( l8 R1 R- T
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
( E, A2 _0 G9 Z6 E. m- w  m  N1 j
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
% }, ~1 ?" U  w2 q* m8 o0 @ Spiral outwards
) P3 q6 v5 C7 ~, R Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
2 \7 ^& c, A: \. r5 [5 z9 r% D  v Into a dueling force of action and reaction
* P3 m2 D0 o9 ~" c3 @ Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
1 `. G+ N. k  Y) n: W0 v But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
1 i1 T* Q! R6 ~/ O: p& c% b; W8 Z Can never be measured in isolation
/ M. f% W7 i) M3 k8 P! D4 o2 { on a path into ourselves.
7 R, I% R: }" D! @# r: j" P. P
1 U9 v# Q8 j" a" A) j0 m8 I It is true then:
Our everlasting future
0 y4 I! f: A) ~ Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
" W% ^% {, B% T2 D, k; J0 W2 t6 a# z Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
( F. P  G9 Z& w" f9 P that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

. z8 A2 L4 M" S/ J+ A) e Our life's prayers our answered
- f, X$ O$ I) z8 A, o9 Z+ B/ u Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
& _4 s! {7 g  w3 _
3 w1 h1 U- @6 a$ {! k8 H' ~ And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
  P$ A! g9 s1 R2 Y We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
. y0 e8 F1 v( @4 {
And then we have heaven …

% y" a) ^, C8 D; p. T0 U Ross Rosenberg
/ y3 f& T0 `. u& L 8/18/03