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.

" _( O, [8 m% w6 n* R5 g3 Y! ? 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.
; b) `( S: C& X* l0 i' V6 F+ }
; D9 R" V# ?+ f2 @4 g1 Z9 {! k Heaven
* z0 p9 u  q1 d9 {( R9 E The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
" F7 @  `/ M7 [# H A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
1 P, Q1 i' s% H" ]6 j A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
) G& ^) c3 }1 e7 Z( S' b8 E. P An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
) A9 X: I' O/ o1 X/ j# [0 _
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
3 u1 Q  g' l7 b0 A But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
& e8 U) ^! c$ j; M$ p3 j7 ~" p Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
- J4 q4 m! t) `: ^, N  x
  P( R7 w' ]) E$ O! U The instant the pebble kisses the pond
( i* n$ x8 O+ ?) h# N Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
  z! T) v* v7 ~- S# l: f. g Moving far beyond itself.
! S6 ]7 S, F" _# { Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
& v  ~/ n* y/ _ Creating karmic energy
9 u3 M6 F* I& m1 I2 i Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
8 u7 b# d3 S( }5 X( W But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
0 o& }1 k; E! `8 T/ y, J" p Can never be measured in isolation
% i. n# C7 A% [4 d on a path into ourselves.
3 }  |, ]8 R5 B; ~  H2 Q9 {
It is true then:
Our everlasting future
  D) _( L8 U" P' g' r. {4 H* u/ i+ P Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
- Y% c/ Z; K  Z! `" {% T# Z Into the pond of life
+ W" w. `, O8 N4 G. c Creating ripples
5 {7 n- H% c0 i) P) O, r that leave unique mark on our world
% y. G# [" _. S- T Not because of thoughts
3 V0 K2 R* B! z# h/ I2 D not because of well meaning plans
) R) d' D6 k( [: i, w  w But because of actions.

+ h/ }. x0 \( E4 i) Y# Z Our life's prayers our answered
1 z" f: V* _  S/ k0 } Because even the smallest pebble
' S& `, U6 s' }9 M No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
/ R0 F" }) O" V. |6 n/ X
And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
4 c& k: G% o, w! I( n+ c" r We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
: l/ P' u) z! O2 N The world will never be the same.

' x# ~1 @+ l* V8 t0 v And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03