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.

* L& L  l) K& P5 h' \ Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
0 N3 {8 x4 O, s. I* g Made small over time
! E9 M6 ?+ [) ]4 t9 b/ g# m0 g A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
7 j4 _8 b- \# p A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
6 t3 C/ a1 p  {% i, H. I+ ] But just a very small stone.

( S: _0 ^. v" N2 I2 B The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
1 ?& y7 o7 N3 y2 z/ I: K( h But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
9 S- B. W& f# s" v+ a' P2 u/ Y Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
+ M6 R: _' W: }/ w0 W
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
' I- U1 G* @) w! a* R! e" h7 Q Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
+ z, _3 Y/ b# }# @% d! E8 p Gently affecting everything in its wake
/ G( L& H6 U, | Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
7 g+ o: S/ Q3 u/ ?  T" q
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
# M& ^; I1 E# f# ]& R2 P6 M7 C Creating karmic energy
8 g" K+ Y; u5 s# \. G0 @' w5 M/ ~$ I Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
) f. f8 e8 N! r2 \, u. K
Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
3 ?+ i+ Q# q8 U That who we are meant to be
& J; ^! B' z! A4 d& c) D0 ?- @ Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.
# N# E' l* P; v6 i8 m
It is true then:
" g# t! X( R; |% k Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
" n$ o# V3 b6 Z Into the pond of life
+ U  b2 S, Q# t6 {) p Creating ripples
" g: i/ h' u7 A/ ^8 G6 H that leave unique mark on our world
7 y- X4 y4 B. M, h Not because of thoughts
: \, d, \! V9 _8 i3 Y) u" e not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
) A& u- R3 R# X
Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
, g% P$ I& I1 H% H, a6 e+ m No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
0 E6 @4 n* X, M: C  W Of those we touch.?
1 e0 `$ y& K9 f
9 q4 M  l+ n+ t* w. C% z) O5 ]) W And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
1 b+ _. d: k  t5 U# @ With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
$ b1 K' c) F+ n4 V The world will never be the same.

And then we have heaven …
- p' u6 E) p$ \, k- q7 ?0 t( J
Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03