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
( R. |% b0 G! @7 f) z: J The pebble is worn smooth
' `+ u  G% V. H  u- Y9 j Made small over time
1 O8 t9 u* D* d( h7 k; l( }- r, A A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
2 `7 p# x5 B/ F9 P0 L. h An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
* c4 l# u; U. ?% I2 C0 j
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
. o6 a9 d$ s1 h9 v9 B. Q5 m But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
# l- j6 B# Z# g0 y  ^, o: n Its insignificance is transformed
) B5 }# D% ~- | Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

) H1 P* u5 \3 H: C% \7 ~ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
% W* S$ L) |8 M, E: V% m Its signature of concentric ripples
% D  V- m* \, ]1 E" ?% E Spiral outwards
4 z& Y9 V4 O! t0 \ Moving far beyond itself.
9 w1 b5 ~: x+ Z! B6 @/ p8 z  | Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
9 J+ H& j6 `- z# S  V
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
# U8 _3 g) S: _  s Into a dueling force of action and reaction
  K  M* M5 e1 F: P  ^) A8 X/ K Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

2 q; Q) i* ]/ C: u/ ~/ _6 e Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
0 f) ~) X/ ^7 x; @ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
7 ?* g- C5 `: d! I
0 p/ @  H0 I; x& s- @ It is true then:
" f7 m* L* F) {# o+ B0 N Our everlasting future
1 B. \, U( b: G7 r5 S Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
- i$ p+ _% _+ U( i# J( {8 r- o Into the pond of life
; d, F* h# E; @' R Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
) P' p- P8 n! e; o- M not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
0 z1 s% H; Y+ }/ I' x, f
Our life's prayers our answered
2 d3 x1 R9 p  K5 d Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

; Q$ D+ ]' ~: p+ k And when the icy winds of death
8 |( W7 n" e1 f3 Q( B/ `0 a beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
* a) g, W' M  ~/ T7 B- J With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
/ M6 r) c: C2 z4 x. f7 b2 p The world will never be the same.
% T9 w3 i) @/ A/ V
And then we have heaven …

7 a: l7 s( N: q, X6 B& v Ross Rosenberg
' G1 E; o* K0 y9 H" b% k 8/18/03