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.

9 R) H( F! P* 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
$ L" @3 Z6 F7 k0 }0 h The pebble is worn smooth
' [& T+ m6 W$ |- p* o Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
0 L+ `: s) M% t5 ` A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
( H: H* a  s$ Z+ P1 i An accidental offspring of a boulder
" V8 M8 n: g2 @ But just a very small stone.

The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
: z2 f7 g7 l/ T/ K" G& ]2 `- z But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
6 g  R9 x" ?) q2 b
The instant the pebble kisses the pond
Its signature of concentric ripples
5 L: S1 z3 D2 W( j Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
! D8 E" M' X6 A' Y6 x1 D Gently affecting everything in its wake
6 R5 E8 J& K( A! b' c Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

- z0 |# v7 a) A- c# ]$ K. R The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
Into a dueling force of action and reaction
& x  w! Z# }0 Q Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
( B; W7 q* ]: }5 E% F  R1 P  b) a+ A Feeling small and insignificant
But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
* x, ^* |- H/ ~' d% J( q Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
3 x( v+ q! r, Y9 t' s9 G% L! i9 q Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
. D2 ]9 T5 R# C Into the pond of life
; \& e$ G4 n5 e& g! N Creating ripples
3 L2 Z- i/ g4 [1 u that leave unique mark on our world
Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
/ i# l: P* }, x; ~ But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
; _/ t" U( l4 S+ y$ {# E Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
2 ^8 T" c1 P& G* |# W. x Of those we touch.?
1 a# S1 Y: G/ ~4 i' Z9 u
* U! ^% x3 t; j: p0 `; U( p- t And when the icy winds of death
beckon our lasting attention
# {4 G+ L2 C  [8 D We will gently leave this life
) S2 V# f; Q5 ^$ q* d- o# v With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
6 u: \! t( Q" N* Q: U7 ? The world will never be the same.
0 \: |! s! H+ Q
And then we have heaven …

! N& S% S8 s$ t4 J  |8 o Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03