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.
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0 _) Q; p- G' M1 t& p/ M1 W 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
The pebble is worn smooth
+ W3 b2 J6 T2 I" N5 u. B& P Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
+ ]6 {& n) f- y% X& r% _ A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
' X4 q" j9 Z5 C! q% G An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
( V6 Q; B/ S& T+ u4 Z' N2 l/ O Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
- `! z" `$ _' ^" P8 A9 h Its insignificance is transformed
# ~+ M, D# m7 v+ q  N; N9 d Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
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  Q( o$ O: s$ u2 a% K The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
9 o" R! u2 |8 q Gently affecting everything in its wake
# d& `7 ~2 ^% o1 v$ |" p8 ]& { Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
4 `% H0 Q' A+ A0 i9 u% U Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
2 _; B8 b# e7 T# Y Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
' o) L! |- ]0 i3 E2 } That who we are meant to be
& g: U2 V1 G# t0 A Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
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0 l# u4 O4 q1 l9 h' Z- s6 B5 T) J It is true then:
6 ~0 |7 {3 g$ {+ b- Q# U- y3 D; V Our everlasting future
( K; g; o* @- H# `' ~ Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
" D: N' W+ s7 B- G5 a Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
' C, u5 l# N% A# j: j( [ that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
: O( C! B# }+ ?' E. Q4 D But because of actions.
+ w7 n" ^6 g* e( D2 B. k. r
' b# I' y0 K, C8 h Our life's prayers our answered
1 P9 w6 B8 T, q6 A% o9 y4 X Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
  w: a& ~' t: v/ k- G Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

  z. f2 b' o) I; k0 W* ^. [ And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
  m" M  a$ A+ ~3 @8 U With the knowledge that
8 J1 H( n: L$ b* a9 ]0 r( j) z: J" o. } because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
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And then we have heaven …

9 E3 _( o( h: s( {! } Ross Rosenberg
) X/ }3 q! [& z+ B 8/18/03