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.

  T) S- t, P4 C6 ~6 y4 \5 Q+ Y5 p 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
/ t9 m' z2 d2 [2 c/ I. B# R Made small over time
) K7 z; k% M+ v& U; a) Z& W A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
2 ^/ m4 v# [; J) \. y$ N; e A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
1 w7 v( j0 W& Y( G; p An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
& q1 r- ?1 c+ K8 k# ^4 f( k
! K* V$ C  G, K: o The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
# J7 k& v! Q0 T9 ^ But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
0 ^/ R7 A# c* k! v7 d2 Q4 V9 ^ Its insignificance is transformed
& N- u& `: K: X' X8 ^ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.

' l) A! F  u- V4 k/ }6 m, v The instant the pebble kisses the pond
. Z) N$ k$ L% C Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
6 v: b6 N- O) o* V0 a/ ~ Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
( A) k6 M( }. K- K; x1 I Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
; r$ ~8 L. u# J Into a dueling force of action and reaction
0 H2 G' L7 B( e0 I+ P, B9 M- x Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

# W0 U: W3 F& }5 O: W Aren't we all pebbles?
Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
( Q- T' P! H# p  `' y$ ^- W Can never be measured in isolation
! E% M" I: S1 P1 ~9 R5 m3 h0 T8 [ on a path into ourselves.

3 K( U7 b2 n) [/ V3 a; |" a/ z It is true then:
Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
- P5 k: B" [, k' f4 k! A Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
, F+ u. Q7 \1 v: W! a/ ^, i that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
1 Q" X6 }1 x' z2 ?1 f  m not because of well meaning plans
9 B& m- G4 f0 ?, E% {9 O0 J; B But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
) q6 M. J5 m0 @( R3 [- z No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
Of those we touch.?
1 h2 E3 B! P/ S4 o  |+ M
And when the icy winds of death
: y. C: }9 E; T: n! O# m9 M/ d  p beckon our lasting attention
We will gently leave this life
7 z8 E! L; v- M' n6 M; g" t- T5 h With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
6 S) n, b/ N( M7 B. T The world will never be the same.
* {9 x) K7 N4 _9 |+ V2 a# z1 k
And then we have heaven …
  I" h7 E7 Z8 B# z/ F& k* V
5 F4 z. S9 \) W" J- k$ \9 A. t Ross Rosenberg
5 M! Y- k. e  ^; s& m( ` 8/18/03