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.

8 @$ {7 A3 k- V1 g! ]" z2 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
/ h( c) N7 }$ j0 y0 |  w Made small over time
9 ]1 v; C$ f) ^9 P. f% p; H+ p0 z A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
, x9 |2 N1 w5 `# j  Z1 [) h3 X A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
4 y% h  b2 J, r An accidental offspring of a boulder
0 }0 j7 a: R& D2 p" S; g But just a very small stone.
+ d* K; R. e5 z% f, b5 ?9 J
The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

The instant the pebble kisses the pond
' B9 X  l9 w7 S# f; L Its signature of concentric ripples
* u  R& B# R4 T" o% m: Q0 J Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
/ @1 y$ B7 u9 o& r; n) g1 ] Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
; k) l' R  q3 h3 a, [; ~8 s
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
$ f- F7 }# q* X; C' T% u) ?! H By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
1 ^0 O6 J! ^( u- B# {! I Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
1 q0 l7 e- B' x& ?( w+ c. n
Aren't we all pebbles?
1 v/ ]/ m" m! \ Feeling small and insignificant
, n1 Y% a( d0 \: F8 Q But ultimately recognizing
0 h/ E8 [# R+ r, k7 n That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
( k5 u! V# Y6 p! Z1 ~8 _. W! E; i3 r2 { Into the pond of life
% t1 T1 u2 E6 K# M+ {* P0 o" X Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
) f, s9 |; A% E not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
/ V8 D$ }7 d0 d0 k8 D! T9 e# v  K Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
( G2 x6 w( F! b Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
# k+ A" F$ L! T With the knowledge that
+ D. E7 R- C/ o because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03