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.

) C+ X. O" @6 _ 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
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
  `) s3 R$ I% ?" R  J Is neither understood nor appreciated
( O: L9 v, ^1 I% K But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
7 y4 S: a$ Y/ w' c( W Its insignificance is transformed
( ?; ?/ R0 B( P) {$ E Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

; s/ ~: q( {9 J, q8 M/ ` The instant the pebble kisses the pond
- X1 P3 {' b7 \1 o' L0 l- [ Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
9 k/ G$ D; Z$ i; o2 Y Moving far beyond itself.
: |0 r! G* i9 Z+ \9 A/ E Gently affecting everything in its wake
1 h0 o4 x1 O8 S+ N- u% g: n5 Q Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
0 h. A1 o: m' N4 k1 T2 C. I
1 M3 |4 C8 {/ K. |9 ~+ n" 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.
: y, ^4 E6 |9 D% M+ A  w0 |* e
8 A5 k$ V9 b, t2 Y Aren't we all pebbles?
2 q1 Y: j: `# {0 E& C1 t Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
- h3 C, c- o/ q. N5 R on a path into ourselves.

$ M9 i$ O$ }6 q3 c- G It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
& x% q2 v& l3 m2 Y8 ~% l- N: o Into the pond of life
& H( V) H" V  Y, H6 {' ]# `" J Creating ripples
5 _% x, y  i: x3 V that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
, F5 m) R1 r5 ^5 n  r) ]1 o/ I not because of well meaning plans
But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
6 I* X7 p! X6 }1 T1 c; k Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?

And when the icy winds of death
: |! f: g; L' ~' F beckon our lasting attention
, w. Z) k/ U# `. r- L' Z We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
1 r/ Z8 E% E) i# s because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
5 S7 Z; ~  r' F0 A! O
And then we have heaven …
1 @' {7 Y# d; P
. }( S; f& T' _+ z! I- @% A Ross Rosenberg
" k6 {- `" r6 `2 l6 F: D 8/18/03