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.

Heaven
! O$ f0 {7 G* ~* F, P0 Z8 A6 | The pebble is worn smooth
+ g7 |! p6 e  `' p0 S* P; ? Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
7 J( Y" J- n2 ^ An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

) I% F' G5 j7 u3 v# o/ C' U The pebble's place in our world
, K! _/ M. z" D! x3 l7 ?- I Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
, K8 v4 F& {. B% T" l: H% p, [ Its insignificance is transformed
- `2 M1 Q9 \- p, v! t- x* R4 a0 q Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
) S/ W( A: e/ r3 j; d" ^/ r
! A8 A3 g2 K  V( ^! k8 U+ e The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
( x; m+ @' D8 J Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
5 Q+ z/ m. \6 z" C# Q  r1 Y Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
! o" [% c) l! J* s
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
8 M3 W6 \6 R# O" D+ A2 E" P But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
) U( d& x$ ?1 k, ~ on a path into ourselves.
; o- ^, c$ C( M
It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
  H  i! \" [5 C$ R- h5 l" s9 b5 ~ Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
: x9 W9 `2 `6 A% `( _, O Not because of thoughts
# e$ i  W! B; D: } not because of well meaning plans
, I8 O& b2 I6 k+ K But because of actions.
' E2 F5 w6 H$ S: B3 ~
/ t' T7 C/ [* F, ^  X$ R! o Our life's prayers our answered
* n/ L, W. t: c Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
' a" e# Q8 U1 q) `( T. v
' q3 V( C" L. l" G3 J5 J3 Z, P% z1 w And when the icy winds of death
4 A3 i% {1 L. n+ D5 u6 q beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
1 @9 U- }& @. S; F9 O0 f3 H; w5 j$ Z because of that one pebble
5 ]6 B1 z( j4 d. t' ~- t4 v The world will never be the same.

2 \4 o: H2 J$ g9 p* V( s; d3 h And then we have heaven …
; o) O; d, E& k7 T: y6 G0 Q
0 h- }0 j  Y& }+ u+ A Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03