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.
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% }% |: S( ?7 t* \  s8 C& I Heaven
" @! I. N4 [( S1 p2 j7 L5 ^ The pebble is worn smooth
: p& q7 ~9 n' Z7 V: ~+ G% { Made small over time
A product of a cataclysmic force of nature
A fragment of mountainous sheets of rock
; |  N. N& k& i+ p' |0 g# f. ^ An accidental offspring of a boulder
But just a very small stone.
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The pebble's place in our world
Is neither understood nor appreciated
But when thrown into a glassy calm pond
4 a/ i) |0 Q! d! c  A& [ Its insignificance is transformed
3 y1 x2 ]# l2 ]8 l: s" ?' A! z Its meaning and purpose is unleashed.
$ T" z, a: |( Q, w
0 q5 Q  H2 G& \; J The instant the pebble kisses the pond
) }: V0 z7 K" w8 `" J! J# C( q/ I2 P Its signature of concentric ripples
Spiral outwards
, E5 t1 w/ c' s6 i Moving far beyond itself.
Gently affecting everything in its wake
Forever altering the smooth placid surface.

The pebble creates its worth and meaning
1 ^: w# X7 o- h: O1 b" \! c# D6 Z By unleashing its unimagined power?
6 G; k7 u, P- D5 C7 D; _ Into a dueling force of action and reaction
% \5 j7 G% r5 E9 b Creating karmic energy
Producing lasting and fluid impressions.

Aren't we all pebbles?
! l% m) g" w/ r4 E. s2 N Feeling small and insignificant
3 |: Q7 v0 Z. k: Z, | But ultimately recognizing
That who we are meant to be
6 E" h0 L$ N7 S7 z/ |7 |1 t+ x: c Can never be measured in isolation
' ~, U0 D$ c. J; s on a path into ourselves.
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It is true then:
; j& M; q9 I. l' ^+ M5 S  |  S Our everlasting future
Is created by the indiscriminate tossing of pebbles
Into the pond of life
Creating ripples
' L) t1 U) S; L2 l- W7 S: m that leave unique mark on our world
! E, s/ A! [# y" a) v Not because of thoughts
( s4 R: N# _; h1 g not because of well meaning plans
' t# x6 Z( E+ X+ B But because of actions.

Our life's prayers our answered
: j' r) L0 @( B  D  F Because even the smallest pebble
7 I: \) q! }5 U5 X. @+ j- Y7 I3 E$ q, U No matter how seemingly insignificant
Changes the course of the lives
( E& |7 e, _6 n3 e2 { Of those we touch.?
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( m2 E8 o( ^8 x. ` And when the icy winds of death
* J1 [7 m- f* `% F5 Y5 {$ i! V) k: a( g beckon our lasting attention
8 |( Z  E: y4 p We will gently leave this life
With the knowledge that
& |! s  j1 |( h" Z; E# F. {( L1 [ because of that one pebble
The world will never be the same.

/ Z) n$ |: u, `! i' k& n! n  } And then we have heaven …

# b0 z6 E4 |- X9 s0 i+ w; Y  V  E Ross Rosenberg
, p9 S5 ?. D2 }% } 8/18/03