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.

: r' r: P- ~0 R8 B) |6 P# O2 j5 | 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.

; I7 K8 _4 t4 P5 J Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
2 V! A* H* j! d) J A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
1 E, D: E7 F7 M- m An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
! E5 `2 z! p/ P& W# ]
; k0 |" W1 H5 h# o: e The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
' U! U3 A. I: ~" J$ ?* U4 l But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
8 ?8 z' j( r  i Its insignificance is transformed
8 Q) v0 j, B/ [' U, m' x) S* D( ~ Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
4 V, F( e2 e2 J) K# x/ C, m/ i
/ Q# Y# T2 o# F! h The instant the pebble kisses the pond
/ p' x4 C0 G4 j7 ^7 X Its signature of concentric ripples
, Q! ~8 l: L6 f& ]; r; [# l Spiral outwards
Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
' y* v# q4 x+ t0 M Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
: P* R6 X) N$ W( y1 J. {
The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
7 u1 o* ~6 V+ |/ b1 ?, U Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

5 z3 X" \" e# C$ I% b0 B& d4 H Aren't we all pebbles?
. n( {2 V- L  g$ g# I- b6 d, Q# x Feeling small and insignificant
4 ~) T( Q- B" T" k  x, r0 `4 F7 Y But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
3 ^6 {9 {; ]" e8 c# M4 @6 Y on a path into ourselves.

3 J$ a% ?7 S& {/ m% a5 ]/ w It is true then:
* ~3 z3 E% D1 C: {1 ?) v0 X- |) U Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
# W: m# W' u' h) t8 V5 T- ^8 A Creating ripples
6 B) P: V3 n* D* B that leave unique mark on our world
6 ^' x, p, n7 ~! X6 a- I Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
; N0 c' s  x7 J9 ^6 q+ M But because of actions.
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; ^# X2 O/ @; A: O9 T7 ? Our life's prayers our answered
Because even the smallest pebble
& r& ]# G  n3 V1 F$ ^1 X No matter how seemingly insignificant
' n  ~5 d% @& X2 _& W Changes the course of the lives
' D0 I) @3 z7 g Of those we touch.?
2 s- K1 ^; G7 V" d3 k( S  ~
# _7 x: \, O" K9 C! _7 j! ~ And when the icy winds of death
, M( G: C2 o6 L  ^ beckon our lasting attention
+ S0 X5 r/ E% H2 c We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.
! V0 F0 ?" \* m- B) \- k& T' m7 h
And then we have heaven …

# Z& d3 k2 P, ], r$ A+ O# R9 L Ross Rosenberg
8/18/03