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
0 a0 d4 A0 Z. G3 J% v The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
2 m& u% O3 l+ {' ^- E# ^* j6 Z: m An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

/ e+ I6 W' T7 O! C8 b The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
9 o2 X$ H9 p3 P/ x. d; L  P5 J Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
9 U% D6 _" c5 W" |4 R0 r1 L
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
2 _* C. t% l" g8 w; G1 H/ w! R( L Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
# T- o, }% k+ K# C/ n0 O Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
# N$ K) Y: V+ C( L/ G' s
  s% t! O* ^( `( |; l- K5 o% M- [* n8 q The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
" o2 L5 ~9 g$ p6 [/ u1 ^( o Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
7 ~1 i' k9 Y# N. V- G2 O0 x+ @) w But ultimately recognizing
( b; N! u  F6 g( V" T6 q That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
8 o% W" e' B" Y) o+ T on a path into ourselves.
1 F; E* r% y% M5 [7 z7 D# Y
7 U( h( A* \1 r0 D+ p It is true then:
7 z9 z5 L" \+ n# ~( {; C: o! V Our everlasting future
! W* X. B, K# E% B9 Y  m0 y& N Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
. M1 P. A- v- `  _! l3 |+ t Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
! Y9 G4 A  r/ k+ ` that leave unique mark on our world
2 Z5 X6 e1 s) L/ W3 i0 u; R Not because of thoughts
. q; n$ p& `* o# {& ^. ` not because of well meaning plans
! f9 p- C- C1 B* C4 @6 Y1 m" Z) l But because of actions.

4 y9 H' p* }" {' u8 ?) y& w+ r: R Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
( W) S! z* o  h  d' e3 w3 t; G Of those we touch.?
4 ^- S! H% X0 Y' _6 s, C
( J' h5 T8 S1 N And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
/ W# P2 ~! w$ \( h) a% _1 L4 S We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
# x( Z/ \5 S" a  e. L The world will never be the same.

% B/ y' ]) C" N$ w+ R1 F And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
5 l! J6 P! o5 Y" _8 n 8/18/03