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.
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Heaven
  k: t* H/ ?# S' [6 z" Y1 c3 A' U The pebble is worn smooth
! q' s; ~& |! i+ a3 t% d9 b, D Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
8 U0 V1 _/ t$ x$ E7 T0 n An accidental offspring of a boulder
& w7 R" l6 B4 x& B& ~ But just a very small stone.
4 D# e3 K$ X& j# Z, G/ ^4 l
) z7 j8 i  F: k8 F The pebble's place in our world
1 @/ L! `5 ^$ ]& E% s+ {1 j Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

8 Z& W* }" [9 v6 _4 F The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
+ h0 q) o) a) H Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
9 t3 v5 Y8 L% y; I6 o; I Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
8 b! y+ g* W" t2 X
0 _3 q4 {: m9 B; [6 Q8 Q9 W The pebble creates its worth and meaning
$ Q! p  K7 ?& A% c8 r0 }$ c By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
  P6 n  t. G) K& t Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
( t3 |: l) t7 S: r That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
2 j7 O& I2 q' N9 n7 c5 l2 ~ on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
( @2 x7 }. s8 W1 [3 y2 T9 \* @ Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
5 Y2 p" E3 S1 s/ s  y that leave unique mark on our world
3 Z# D: v) i2 L; { Not because of thoughts
. d1 o8 j$ y3 s+ A not because of well meaning plans
: h" J8 ~' k4 u- t: N2 f But because of actions.

9 O$ t' r+ U7 Q: H6 o& }/ O) j Our life's prayers our answered
" p( D! a# |  Z+ C% d( y( r Because even the smallest pebble
* f. C& j: a* |. H1 i7 U4 u: | No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
8 G0 V" U! G8 W+ z) N4 Y; O9 Z( q Of those we touch.?

& r3 v8 R8 s3 f" @  \' s' b; {5 ? And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
8 B2 w  `; d, T1 ^6 \: o We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
/ {; N" j) c/ N* f; T because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

5 O+ w* ~' V1 I9 b9 ^2 e% J And then we have heaven …
3 @" Q: Q8 y. J8 e) B  O, F
  b, _+ @9 H9 q7 t" E Ross Rosenberg
3 z2 q1 U# W1 t+ ]0 |6 D 8/18/03