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.

# c  e; @5 q. Q6 B' V Heaven
2 X' P6 G- Z7 l) k8 D- Z& i" U8 h' G The pebble is worn smooth
4 t6 i+ c& ?+ E% C- w Made small over time
! ]% d8 Y2 c- A' ?8 W! i A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
  E! d- U3 x, n2 w2 A* Z4 {7 i$ q A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
& N! v$ ^, h3 H An accidental offspring of a boulder
5 ]* W8 u* r; U- Y But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
! n( c* h! l3 H4 H% _( _% R But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
0 E' d  v1 S! W8 M0 |. T2 n. Z Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
2 L& U8 E& c* ?
, p* J$ Q+ e: g$ R  S0 i The instant the pebble kisses the pond
( J: T2 u( b3 Z. P$ H Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
0 _! c: }( t1 S2 P Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

9 B# c1 e' Y/ K& I$ K+ i) g The pebble creates its worth and meaning
1 A% L8 R* B! G3 F% `$ r By unleashing its unimagined power?
" r: F2 E/ p5 {" |/ i5 o' h  B Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
3 `: W. P. x( x+ e
Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
4 F) N4 v. v0 y$ x That who we are meant to be
- D; e7 [5 s& u; {$ J* b Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
, g0 ^! Y& d  @# E2 W( s Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
0 Z) N  t0 [' M, r Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
' d5 o. v* z# A0 {9 v not because of well meaning plans
3 z8 ~* S( @* K# O7 i% M& E% A But because of actions.
* P  h0 L, p8 ^8 t: J
Our life's prayers our answered
2 ~9 ~; c  w9 X6 S; l Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
7 y% t: O' m, b7 ~# o/ U! j" ~* ^ Of those we touch.?
# j$ `* @" w4 N9 M
And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
$ i' a$ o. ]# B  t$ }6 q8 T With the knowledge that
) L; ~4 \" f- _: f( F because of that one pebble
8 z6 ?- L% L# L7 r' W0 t The world will never be the same.
+ |- a$ F  n/ D6 \3 ?
And then we have heaven …
. D) [% {9 v/ J  c1 {- ~  |
Ross Rosenberg
" w+ w0 \2 P, t9 k 8/18/03