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.

0 z) X" P7 C" v) U; A+ l! n* | Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
7 _+ t, [7 B0 w7 v3 ?" t/ ^* I) U Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
! m3 d/ [8 d( b6 ?- T7 U  O Its insignificance is transformed
% i6 v0 D4 `# q3 y! F Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

( v* g5 W! I: u4 {0 V The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
& w7 m( E3 m2 r$ j2 n. m4 e. m Spiral outwards
) u1 L: S9 p. _. \9 \ Moving far beyond itself.
4 X! b2 n+ J" j9 D# s Gently affecting everything in its wake
# z. g  X# O- o% ]' a" w Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

  D% M: {! `: G; P, ^ The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
: j  C3 a  T6 K9 i Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
4 ^, E' l6 W  Y$ S, z% x, i# R6 S5 b Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
8 v: \. z5 f. n0 h. s That who we are meant to be
7 ^2 N: `( C  P$ f9 s8 d1 i- ? Can never be measured in isolation
/ q( i# Y, F5 r5 p! V' @ on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
. s" s( w! y/ \. r0 D3 D3 G Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
) r: z6 `! w5 x% y& y Into the pond of life
0 K& z. d+ w- U- `$ J Creating ripples
1 ?6 Y/ [5 m) h8 _% E/ L8 @/ } that leave unique mark on our world
" m7 j2 N" d! \" \4 T+ @8 y. r Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

) Y* b6 M$ {+ f2 {' ] Our life's prayers our answered
7 E0 O. n: A1 W Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
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And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
- a& [( k, y6 }, ` We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
0 t( y. n5 g! k9 Y: V) w The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
) d' a( B. A2 F, s3 l0 D4 |& x3 k, a
7 K4 _' A9 j) Y7 W7 C9 e( d Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03