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.
6 S0 h# Q3 r, I$ \
/ R2 y8 ]$ ^  [5 a 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.

* I& q' R4 m, N/ N Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
* k- Q6 R8 p# [* O* P. s; e+ ^* x A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
3 ~5 v% i+ V8 R5 l5 _2 c, Z An accidental offspring of a boulder
/ S  P! {7 V9 |1 D: e8 }  P But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
, s4 |2 I4 F$ T' s+ l% P But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
% V. @: T* L8 T; f Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

; W- `/ ?- i' Q4 I6 O) `8 N# e The instant the pebble kisses the pond
7 _7 o, D/ w, ~7 V9 ~ Its signature of concentric ripples
* C" ~( M* h* G4 ?6 K6 d( F, N Spiral outwards
! ^2 H5 F5 E7 V) @9 O" J- J; g Moving far beyond itself.
: A5 G6 r( Y* ]% o9 r4 ^* u9 Z Gently affecting everything in its wake
% G% D& z! d1 ^& R' O Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
, p' y9 f2 a) r3 Q; ~# q Producing lasting and fluid impressions.
' c- M3 p. c1 J6 t& r3 m
Aren't we all pebbles?
) y  K! D! D0 I. f Feeling small and insignificant
1 v2 I8 F" Q/ b8 ?  d  [/ ? But ultimately recognizing
, ^% F. g* g' e+ c+ D" x 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
4 d& Z3 k7 S% Y+ d0 z+ ^5 T Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
4 ~* X: g) v( L& v" c  r8 T( ` Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
8 Y* m5 u! `* T* U- k* K  E3 d that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
2 Z0 L9 p1 k& _- J  I% m But because of actions.

7 _- x8 v1 t/ A: B3 Q5 J) q* R Our life's prayers our answered
& X7 Z: m/ m8 D' Y2 C% H Because even the smallest pebble
# d+ |0 I8 X3 K/ A( k! b! k No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
; C& t: J' A) h0 l Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
8 k  W0 [! \$ _6 d9 x We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
, V, p0 b4 S& b! I- } The world will never be the same.

1 H9 `  G0 L2 A- R# h And then we have heaven …
6 X  Y: t- w; }  h4 d# R+ L
- H3 L7 D7 T* k) H2 f1 X' a5 y Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03