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.

+ I8 V( c5 i& [  u( s7 N2 V 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.

4 G! k, ]% i9 N8 |  n; [+ k Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
/ ~% L6 A* Z% E: O) H" i$ z Made small over time
5 ?! t# L# |3 ~+ a$ l. c A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
0 j4 A  S2 i* }( |; i: E! B A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
% z3 ?0 Q2 Y. _7 d9 g An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
" C, G( f" h9 a9 P7 v But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
! C, M( f5 F5 t7 p- E Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
. Q# e' Z7 {& \+ G& D. |) M$ Z0 s9 e
8 l  A0 E8 [( `5 [ The instant the pebble kisses the pond
- z: W9 f; B7 ?% ] Its signature of concentric ripples
5 V" D  E, L; n+ F* Z4 {8 ?1 D Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
& U* z; g! p  O6 q2 f Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
* h0 x% H9 i9 n0 Z- d# i2 h4 W! g  O* @ Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
6 H- Q, H, w  z. a% h0 F Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
# a( M' q. H. j2 c But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
, p; ?0 v6 p1 k; b( z Can never be measured in isolation
3 _7 P3 }- t7 |1 _/ _1 w on a path into ourselves.

, ~* Q; k( `1 o( ?$ Y, k It is true then:
( Q" ~/ u6 v4 u8 t- ?: u& {# I, A Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
: m# A6 |9 g4 H' T+ i3 t Into the pond of life
" }; R+ M# v* j; P/ [3 H/ i9 Q* y) s Creating ripples
that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.
7 Z! m/ ]# B. N7 B7 x
# l4 G1 b( y" v Our life's prayers our answered
' q* {: I" f% h4 J2 E; M Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
% i0 r) u* A4 z  q. ` Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
' ^: {/ Q! r$ T1 Z- m& J With the knowledge that
( J1 o3 R8 p' c. R8 u because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
6 e6 U! D8 ?$ K3 ]# ~& L0 P( M
2 j! n2 |5 @8 z/ `9 c) b And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
# q) a- J' V+ ?5 b6 R; s 8/18/03