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.
6 o* ^  A$ a6 D
9 a; B) V* J  B, H: [ Heaven
The pebble is worn smooth
Made small over time
& L6 H2 [: i; {6 b& _ A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
An accidental offspring of a boulder
, [) k" ~! h3 R# p1 w But just a very small stone.
, H# Q& i: S2 g# ]+ `+ d
The pebble's place in our world
  A9 E$ `7 S0 g, w& T) U Is neither understood nor appreciated
  r) |4 k: _3 z; q4 Y But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
Its insignificance is transformed
, v5 R: E4 w' s! G Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
  Q) n- P& p( n' t; o/ g% A
: J$ y" h# D" `3 _; B# |4 D The instant the pebble kisses the pond
& S) @% l/ M) ]6 F: T/ e Its signature of concentric ripples
  L* Z% v' x* D4 x# D Spiral outwards
  U8 s1 d1 u; p7 R9 H& p% Q Moving far beyond itself.
( Q" E1 @% L: k; S Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.
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The pebble creates its worth and meaning
By unleashing its unimagined power?
! X$ ?  z/ @/ V( H! f9 t" M% G Into a dueling force of action and reaction
Creating karmic energy
: y0 ^# S: O3 H# @. `  [ Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
% t: j$ Q' S7 h8 U5 Y1 P Feeling small and insignificant
+ Q, a& i6 m- `  U7 V/ r; H4 N But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
Can never be measured in isolation
on a path into ourselves.

It is true then:
+ z" ~/ n$ o$ d7 f# P Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
  }: v" T6 r; n0 A; z( } Into the pond of life
$ E/ S2 D& c! |/ U Creating ripples
9 @4 N7 C, L+ h, \ that leave unique mark on our world
4 Y* l4 e: k3 _$ V, l4 [4 c. } Not because of thoughts
not because of well meaning plans
) s/ @2 O3 i' S" k* d4 [ But because of actions.

$ f9 g  q) A; d/ r& v4 O Our life's prayers our answered
# h) I8 L( E, j$ |; o6 s Because even the smallest pebble
No matter how seemingly insignificant
0 a5 e) p6 E/ r' o/ D4 k Changes the course of the lives
( W- p$ i/ r0 [" e/ l7 v' d# b! n Of those we touch.?

' D& u4 O+ ?/ W+ K) p And when the icy winds of death
0 e; o$ g( \. J) L* l beckon our lasting attention
0 j+ t& ?1 Q( n3 z, S( Y4 H( b We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

3 |" c/ c+ ?: J7 k8 n* L, F And then we have heaven …

Ross Rosenberg
" R8 i5 }+ J! N0 R& t4 K! p 8/18/03